Turning the Proverbial Worm
by spugacki
Summary: Oliver realizes he's not as infallible as he once believed. With new feelings and a multitude of murders to solve, things are set to change in exciting and irrevocable ways. Will love, and life, prevail?
1. Chapter 1

This is my first fanfic so please don't eviscerate me! I apologize in advance for any errors, grammer was never my strong suit.

Disclaimer: I do not own Smallville.

* * *

Oliver had been stewing for hours-ever since Chloe had given him the proverbial brush off. It was only 3:00 in the afternoon, but he'd already managed to work his way through half a bottle of scotch as he languished on the couch. Last night had been nothing short of revelatory, and not necessarily in a good way. He hadn't gone to Watchtower with the intent of getting Chloe into bed, but something about the way she commiserated and simply _understood_ had driven him to pursue his folly. She was surprisingly receptive, and although he knew he'd have to do a fair bit of damage control he felt it was worth it.

After Lois, the last thing he wanted was some deep emotional entanglement. He wasn't used to being on the receiving end of rejection and his ego was floundering with inept coping mechanisms. He sulked for a bit, wallowing in self pity before deciding to get back in the game. But there was a problem; a very large one that prevented him from successfully...indulging. Ever since Chloe had yanked him up by his boot straps it seemed wrong to round up the usual suspects and let loose. He found himself wanting a connection beyond the physical, and last night it was Chloe who provided it.

He smiled, thinking of how uninhibited she'd been and the things she'd let him do. It was a side of her he never would have believed existed had he not witnessed it firsthand. But once it was over and his brain kicked into play, he began to feel guilty. Chloe had come a long way since the funeral; finally putting Jimmy in a box and reconciling her grief. He remembered her telling him how hard it was to distinguish her gratitude from love and how it affected the healing process. She found solace in Watchtower, but seemed to be moving forward at long last-dinner with himself and John being one example. She was finally venturing back into a world of flesh and blood versus encryption and servers.

God, he was _such_ an asshole. He leaned forward, pouring himself yet another glass as he berated himself for taking advantage of her. Chloe had been celibate since Jimmy-at least he thought she had-so his assumption was to expect a little melodrama come morning. He figured he'd talk her down, offering reassurances of her near virginal status and promise it wouldn't affect their friendship. He fully intended to let things go back to normal. He knew he was being selfish; using her to fill the void. But he'd needed something to get rid of the yearning that plagued him ever since Lois said goodbye, and Chloe had been there.

So imagine his surprise when he woke up to find her fully dressed, coffee in hand as she coolly glanced over some paperwork she'd neglected the night before. Their entire conversation had been a bit surreal, and he knew he'd severely misjudged things when she refused to capitulate and play shy. Instead, she leveled him with a look, asking "is this the part where you calm the flustered ingénue with your chamberlainesque wisdom and wit?" He'd just about swallowed his tongue.

Things continued in much the same vein up until she flat out refused to go tit for tat with him on sexual histories, claiming they'd be there all week should she humor him. There was a teasing lilt in her voice, but Oliver knew her well enough to pick up on the disapproval hidden there. He sighed heavily, raking a hand through his disheveled hair. They'd grown fairly close over the past few months, but apparently their friendship had done little to sway her opinion of his sexual morality.

It wasn't until after she'd left to meet Lois for breakfast that he realized what had happened. He, Oliver Queen, all but begged a woman to sit and talk about their _feelings_. He who wanted no entanglements; no chance of a perceived relationship. Chloe had even offered a get out of jail free card and seemed fairly astonished at his failure to use it. She did, however, agree to meet him for dinner.

So what the hell was he supposed to say? He wasn't asking for a commitment, but something in the way she so easily brushed him off upset him. He was still trying to convince himself she was in denial. He sat back, swirling the amber liquid around in his glass. There were several ways he could play it. He could go for avoidance; shifting the evening into neutral 'friends' territory and maybe even watch a movie or two. He could initiate a physical encounter and spend the rest of the night drenched in sweat-both his and hers. Or, he could man up and hash a few things out. Chloe wasn't the easiest person to get to know, and the last thing he wanted was to lose her friendship over his sudden-and completely ludicrous-insecurities.

That was it then, he decided, finishing off his drink and standing up. He was the Green Arrow. He'd faced down alien apocalypses for God's sake. One little blond shouldn't have him quaking in his boots. He looked around his apartment, cringing at the mess he'd made. He certainly had some work to do before Chloe arrived, but for once in his life, Oliver Queen wanted to talk.


	2. Chapter 2

Again, I apologize for any errors.

* * *

Chloe arrived at the loft promptly at eight. She was an hour late, but something had come up with the league that needed her attention. The elevator came to a stop and she sighed. Oliver seemed oddly discomfited by their tryst and she couldn't fathom why. All of his female friends ended up in bed with him at some point, so why was he so bewildered by her? She'd actually given herself a headache trying to wrap her head around it. It just didn't make any sense. She looked up as the elevator doors opened and she spotted him on the couch.

He smiled as she stepped inside. Gone was the business attire she seemed to wear as armor and in its place stood someone he deemed approachable in jeans and a cashmere sweater. He heaved a sigh of relief to be back in familiar territory. He'd always viewed her as akin to virtuous, which was part of why seeing her so apathetic after a night of casual—yet intensely inventive—sex had twisted his guts around.

"Hey," he greeted warmly as he stood, smoothing out the wrinkles in his jeans. His palms were sweaty and his t-shirt suddenly felt too warm. He couldn't believe he was so nervous. He chuckled at the irony. Self reputed playboy Oliver Queen was acting like a prepubescent dolt.

"Hey yourself," she responded in kind, throwing her purse on the coffee table as she made her way towards him. "Sorry I'm late. Bart skipped over to Bogota instead of Lima and I had to talk him down."

"It's not a problem. Have you eaten?" he asked, reaching out to take her hand. She smiled up at him.

"No. I hedged my bets on the dinner offer being open ended."

Oliver led her into the kitchen. He'd originally planned something more intimate but after she sent him a text explaining Bart's blundered excursion he switched gears. Besides, he had a feeling tonight's conversation would hold little room for romance. "I ordered Chinese. I figured we could do with something simple."

Chloe stared at him archly. "You telling me I'm in for an arduous night?" To be honest, Oliver's reaction this morning had her completely off balance, and she really had no idea what to expect. She took a seat at the island and rested her chin in her hand. "So are you going to tell me what this dinner's all about?" she asked as Oliver dished out their food.

"Straight to the point as usual," he noted, offering her a glass of wine. "Riesling ok?"

"It's fine."

Oliver sat down across from her after handing her a plate and smiled. "I got the impression you might be a little...disconcerted about last night," he hedged, digging into his rice with relish. He'd skipped breakfast and opted for a liquid lunch. Needless to say he was starving.

Chloe rolled her eyes. It was just like him to make assumptions about her naiveté. "Things seemed pretty straight forward to me," she replied blandly, taking a bite of chicken.

Oliver searched her face for any clue she was being deceitful but found none. He honestly thought she'd been acting so unaffected for his benefit—and possibly to save face. He knew how important control was to someone like Chloe, and the events of last night had to have shaken her. Still, something in the way she was so determined to dismiss it bothered him. "It feels like you've relegated this to a drunken once night stand," he accused. "Is that how you see it Chloe?"

She set down her chopsticks and sighed. Apparently they were going to turn this into an episode of Dawson's Creek. "We weren't drunk," she reminded him. Oliver may have had a few but she'd been glaringly sober when she spread her legs and smiled. And the fact that he was determined to scuttle her back into the prude box was an aggravation she didn't need.

Oliver took a sip of his wine, clutching his glass tightly—food forgotten as their conversation grew more distinct. "I know that Chloe. But you and I are friends."

"Who apparently now have benefits. What's going on Oliver?" His expression had turned dour, and if she didn't know any better, she'd think her indifference hurt his feelings. It was puzzling.

"I don't like how easy it is for you to believe I'd jeopardize our friendship just so I can get laid," he admitted. "Is that really what you think of me?"

Chloe's expression softened considerably. She'd never imagined his issues with this lay in the remnants of his breakdown. "Ollie," she gently intoned, reaching out to place her hand over his. "There's no doubt in my mind that our friendship means the world to you," she assured him. "It means a lot to me too. It's part of why I can separate the deviant from the man."

"Deviant?" he inquired, feeling an ample amount of confusion. He had no idea what she was alluding to with that statement. "So are you calling me one or..."

Chloe shrugged. "You're kind of like Jekyll and Hyde," she explained. "Only with sex instead of violence. Although there have been a few times..."

Oliver gaped at her. He hadn't been expecting _that_. God, when had her opinion of him become so skewed? "You're seriously comparing my sex life to an allegory for mental instability?"

"I wasn't trying to offend you." Chloe grabbed her wine glass and emptied it quickly. Things were going south fast, and if she didn't turn tail and run the only way was getting through this was by rendering herself inebriated. "How do I explain this," she mused, cocking her head to the side as a pensive expression slid across her face. "Ok, a person would have to be stupid to expect anything more from you sexually. _But_," she stressed, "you're a great friend, and I refuse to change that."

Oliver was stunned. When he invited her over his intention had been to clear the air, not set himself up for verbal evisceration. She was ripping his ego to shreds. "Excuse me?"

"You know what I mean Oliver." She slid off her stool and made a beeline for the bottle on the counter. "Nothing's changed, I get it."

"No, you don't," he snapped. He shoved himself away from the island and stomped over to her. "I'm not that person anymore."

She couldn't help but scoff at his statement. "Really Oliver? Let's break it down here." She took a deep breath and plowed on. "4 months ago you were screwing anything with a pulse. 3 months ago you were proclaiming your love for Lois. Next you were propositioning Dinah." She poured herself another glass and downed it, wincing at the acrid bite. "And now, you're screwing me. Not to be rude, but how is any of that indicative of change?" She glanced up at him, expression perceptively aware. "You've always been morally ambiguous."

Oliver clenched his fists and prayed for patience. Chloe was treating him like a sexual sociopath. Yes, he'd made a lot of mistakes in his life, but he thought she of all people would understand his need for redemption. Wasn't it _her_ plan that pulled him back from the brink just months ago? Where was that unyielding belief now? "I know I screwed up after doomsday, but it's not like I'm the only one to ever blur the lines here," he ground out.

Chloe stepped back, hands held up in a placating gesture. "I think you misunderstood me," she said. "I'm talking solely about sex Oliver. I know you're a good person and what happened really affected you. I'm not trying to make light of that."

Oliver motioned to the bottle and she passed it to him. After pouring himself another glass he turned away from her and made his way back to the couch. Chloe picked up her wine and followed silently. They sat down side by side, facing each other.

Oliver took a sip before setting his glass on the coffee table. "Putting aside your semblance of trust, you still believe me capable of some pretty shitty behavior," he said. "I'm not going to sit here and justify my past. I know it was wrong. I treated women like crap—but I'm paying for it now apparently." He tried to keep the bitterness from his voice but failed miserably. It hurt knowing the one person he thought accepted him despite his murky track record viewed him so corrupt.

Chloe stared at him incredulously. "How is calling a spade a spade making you pay for it?" She was completely baffled by his logic. "It's not like I said no, even though I knew you were a transatlantic flight from playing in someone's else's bird cage." She glared at him pointedly, knowing he'd understand the reference. Truth be told, the entire debacle with Dinah irked her far more than Lois ever did. At least he'd loved her cousin.

"Dinah was nothing," he defended. "You read the emails. She never even factored in." He couldn't understand why Dinah bothered her so. At Jimmy's funeral, the two women seemed close; possibly on their way to friends. To say he was surprised by Chloe's sudden animosity would be an understatement.

"I skimmed them Ollie. _Skimmed_. I wasn't really interested in watching you and Dinah engage in cybersex." She shuddered at the imagery and finished off her wine, thankful for the helpful libation. Something about the closet blond rubbed her the wrong way. Maybe it was their explosive introduction combined with her fierce protectiveness of Lois, but deep down she knew a part of her felt inferior to the super heroine. Oliver's pursuit of the Black Canary only served to feed those insecurities. Damn the Jolly Green Giant for suddenly realizing she was female. Dinah wasn't even a blip on her radar until _he _swooped in.

Oliver took her now empty glass and placed it on the table beside his. "I think that's taking it a bit far," he stated. "They were _just_ emails."

Chloe's brow arched, her expression dubious. "So she doesn't know your proclivity for always carrying insurance?"

His eyes widened comically and she laughed. "I thought you only skimmed them," he spluttered.

"A few things stood out. The title Boy Scout being more apropos of you was one of them."

Oliver had the grace to look sheepish. The emails _were_ a bit on the racy side, but he never intended to follow through and Dinah knew that—at least, he hoped she did. "You know me Chloe. If I was really taking her seriously I would have screwed her by now." He didn't bother sugar coating it. Chloe had been bordering on vulgar the better part of the night so why bother? "Yes, she's attractive and yes, I'd be lying if I said I never thought about it. But that's all it was, a stray thought and some petty prose." He slid his arm along the back of the couch, fingertips ghosting along her shoulder blade. "Why are you so bothered by this?" he asked her, genuinely curious.

"I'm not!" she protested rather forcefully and Oliver smiled. For some reason, he found her reaction strangely endearing.

"Then what's the problem?" he pressed. He didn't understand her sudden fit of nerves. She seemed to have no problem engaging in risky sexual behavior the night before, but play to her sense of convention and she began molting.

Chloe wasn't sure what to do. She was hesitant to open herself up, especially after the tragedy that was Jimmy. Bearing her soul never heeded positive results in the past, and trying again with Oliver seemed tantamount to madness. But hearing his retraction of Dinah helped ease her worries somewhat. She steeled herself and opted to throw caution to the wind. If there was one thing she'd learned through all this, it was Oliver's stalwart refusal to let their friendship slide. "You want me to be honest?" she asked.

Oliver gave her an encouraging grin. "Absolutely."

Chloe pulled a leg up underneath her and sighed. "You don't care about Dinah," she declared. "I'd give it a month before you got bored. But being passed over for someone you love is a lot different than being overlooked for irrelevant fun—even though they both hurt like hell."

Oliver immediately felt guilty for forcing her hand. He should have known better. It was no secret Chloe had issues stemming from Clark's near constant dismissal of her as anything more than a favored vexation. Lois had filled him in on the many times in high school Clark had passed her up for the shiniest new toy. "Chloe—"

She held up a hand, stopping his response. "One night hardly changes the dynamic. I'm not invested enough to hurt. But sitting here talking about it—_that_ makes it more."

He shook his head. "Being friends makes it more."

"You're friends with Dinah," she shot back, annoyance seeping through her words.

Oliver's lips curled in aggravation. "Dinah can go jump on AC for all I care. She's nothing to me." Chloe's eyes widened in surprise. She wasn't expecting such an adamant dismissal. "Lois hurt my pride—badly. Call me selfish, but I needed an ego boost. Dinah wasn't around to smother me with any delusions of importance so I used her." He gently gripped Chloe's shoulder, forcing her attention on him. "If I'd known this was going to happen I never would have emailed her."

Chloe smiled. "You don't owe me any explanations," she stated. "I'm not your girlfriend, and I don't plan on applying for the position either. It's your business Ollie. I'm sorry I pried."

Oliver chuckled softly. "It _is_ your business Chloe. You may not be my girlfriend, but as my best friend, and someone who happens to be sleeping with me, you're entitled to a few rights." Somewhere along the line Oliver had come to a decision, and so long as she was impartial as she claimed, he planned to hammer out an agreement. He was tired of being alone.

"I thought this was just a onetime thing Oliver. We really don't need complications right now," she objected. He was making it seem like an ongoing theme and for _that_ she was definitely ill prepared. She could chalk it up to overdue necessity so long as it stayed firmly in the one off department, but taking it further had her venturing into tangible waters and she wasn't ready for that.

"It's _not_ complicated," he insisted. "I trust you, and if I'm right then both of us are on the same page here." Oliver knew his idea had the potential for disaster, but after talking to Chloe and being assured of her indifference he honestly felt it could benefit them both. "Do you want a relationship?" he inquired.

"No. I just came to grips with being a widow," she said, brow wrinkling in consternation. "Ok, so I know we were technically divorced but—"

"He loved you," Oliver interrupted. "And you loved him. That makes you a widow in my book." He scooted forward, knee brushing against hers as he brought the conversation back on point. "So neither of us wants a relationship, but neither of us wants to fuck around either."

She snorted indelicately at his turn of phrase. "So what do you suggest? I've never been as...active as you. Abstinence is still in my vocabulary you know," she teased.

Oliver laughed. He had no doubt Chloe could continue on without the comfort of physical contact. To be honest, it worried him a bit. She seemed to have an uncanny ability to close herself off from the people around her, and he'd hate to see her become another casualty of their super powered war. "I've partied enough for an excess of frat houses," he ruefully admitted. "I want something different." He caught her eye, expression intent. "We have sex with each other, and _only_ each other—for an indefinite amount of time."

Chloe mulled over his words, biting her lip thoughtfully. It wasn't bad, what he was proposing. She couldn't handle anything remotely emotional and she wouldn't have to worry about that with Oliver. "Exclusivity without the entanglements?" she asked him to clarify.

"Exactly," he confirmed. "So what do you say sidekick. You up for a little no strings fun?" Despite his earlier misgivings he'd managed to come full circle; realizing Chloe was probably the best person for an arrangement like this—and to think she'd been there all along.

Chloe smiled, leaning back against the couch. What the hell, she thought. It's not like she had anything left to lose. She met his gaze with confidence. "Ok Oliver. Let the games begin."


	3. Chapter 3

Once again I apologize for any errors.

* * *

Oliver lay naked, spread eagle on his bed as he roused himself awake. Chloe had left hours ago but he couldn't muster the energy to move. Being with her was exhausting in a completely unanticipated way. She was still the staunch matriarch of the team, despite having recently performed a few alterations on things. He'd quickly discovered that shedding her inhibitions was a complex business which required quite a bit of leeway, and he didn't doubt their little band of superheroes would balk at her excursion into sex; much as he had at first. But, as much as he too wanted to keep his sainted image of her he enjoyed it too much to quit.

He burrowed his head into the pillow and groaned. Never in his life had he imagined Chloe Sullivan, Watchtower extraordinaire, would leave him shell shocked and amazed. The term rode hard and put away wet sprang to mind. Her capacity for brilliance seemed to know no bounds. As many women as he'd slept with, toyed with, and otherwise engaged, he believed himself unmoved; yet Chloe had managed to do it in spades.

The first night after finalizing their agreement was spent unrestrictedly fucking, and Chloe's virtue had successfully—and enthusiastically—been launched out the window. He thought back to their conversation and smiled. When Chloe mentioned games he had no idea she meant literally. Mother May I suddenly took on a whole new meaning.

Oliver rolled over, wincing as he stretched. It had been a long time since he'd been so overtaxed, and it hadn't been sex that caused it. He scrubbed a hand over his face and decided to get some coffee. He didn't drink much of it, but lately he'd been making an exception. He pulled on some sweats before stumbling into the kitchen.

One thing was for sure; any insecurities she held on to had been boldly and decisively laid to rest—in his mind anyway. Although for Chloe, he doubted it was that simple. It wasn't hard to see why she struggled with self deprecation; even her husband had passed her up for his version of the deluxe model. Oliver knew about Kara. Apparently, the Kryptonian beauty had dated Jimmy up until her bout with memory loss. It was only then the Planet's homely photographer tore his eye back to his future wife.

The coffee beeped and he poured himself a cup. He knew he should head into the office but damn if he couldn't find the will. Grabbing his phone, he sent in a message saying he would be working from home. Chloe had showered and skipped out at six, offering a cheerful farewell as he grunted his reply. How she managed to function this morning was beyond him.

Over the past few days he'd felt like the poster child for Zalman King. One incident stood out in particular. They were working at Watchtower, pouring over some league contention at her desk. One thing led to another and by the time she was done defiling him he resembled a sated baboon; slanting against her as he struggled to catch his breath. She smiled up at him, knees still gripping his hips and her red lace panties dangling obscenely from around her ankle. Abruptly shoving him off—and nearly capsizing him in the process—she yanked her panties up and grinned. "Thanks Romeo, I needed that," she'd jauntily cooed. Oliver could only smile as he watched her get dressed. As she was leaving, she flashed him a cheeky little wave and asked "Same time tomorrow?"

Good God, he seriously wondered if he was going to survive this. Apart from the sex, she kept everything rather clinical. No hint of emotions, no forays into dependency. She maintained the allusion of intimacy while successfully keeping her distance. Initially, he'd been concerned over the possibility she'd become attached. With sex, it was often easy to blur the lines of friendship. He realized fairly quickly it was a moot point. The woman was more unattainable than Tess. His only real concern now lay in his struggle to make peace with her changing values.

To him, Chloe was the classic case of the virgin and the whore—multi-faceted and fundamentally confusing. He wasn't arrogant enough to pigeon hole her morals; she'd proved her ability to deviate with Sebastian Kane and Davis Bloom. But even after being privy to her questionable machinations he couldn't shake his initial impression of her as the wholesome girl next door.

Oliver stretched his neck to the side, an audible 'pop' reverberating through the silent room. He scratched his stomach and finished his coffee, determined to at least shower before the clock struck ten. He'd never been so lazy in his life; at least, not without the aid of copious amounts of alcohol.

He checked his phone for messages, feeling slightly disappointed Chloe hadn't sent him one. He'd hoped to schedule their next...appointment. Mentally roiling, he chided himself on not having a proper handle on things. He was fast becoming addicted to the their debauchery and worried he was charting into dangerous waters. He wasn't stupid. He knew the more time he spent with Chloe the easier it would be to unwittingly fall. She was a likable person, regardless of how often she appeared stark naked offering mutual—and downright shameful—satisfaction. So how long would it be before his enjoyment of her sex melded into his appreciation of her as a friend?

He shook his head. No—he refused to think like that. Playing Simon Says was far too enjoyable to ruin with banalities of the future. Besides, he thought with a filthy grin, he had a date to plan.


	4. Chapter 4

Oliver shut his laptop and cursed. His day had been frustrating at best, and the one thing he needed to nullify things happened to be suspiciously missing in action. At first glance it would seem she was distant because of the date, and of its fright inducing significance. He wasn't exactly keen on Valentine's Day either—there was too much pressure and ill favored expectations. Oliver was glad he and Chloe were so pleasingly likeminded about the whole thing. No gifts, gestures or otherwise romantic notions alluding to anything more than sex between friends.

To be honest, it was a relief to be able to simply enjoy it and not be concerned with _strings_. The fact that he trusted Chloe went a long way in sanctioning his behavior as well. Granted, he may not be privy to her entire—and expectedly conservative—history, but he knew enough not to worry about diseases or pregnancy. He assumed she felt the same way given she had access to his medical records. After his little...mishap, he'd been tested thoroughly, and there hadn't been anyone but Chloe since.

Oliver was startled from his thoughts by his assistant sweeping through the door. Megan was an attractive woman: tall, about 33, with pepper brown hair and kind eyes.

"May I call it a night Mr. Queen?" she asked pleasantly, dropping a stack of papers on his desk.

He glanced at her sheepishly. "To be honest, I didn't know you were still here." He slid the documents aside. "Please, go home."

She chuckled lightly. "You _have_ been a little distracted, sir. Is everything alright?"

Oliver shrugged indifferently. "Nothing out of the ordinary," he replied, and Megan nodded, walking back towards the door. "Happy Valentine's Day!" he called out as an afterthought.

Once she was gone he reached up and loosened his tie, yanking it off and tossing it carelessly on his desk. He leaned back in his chair. All he wanted to do was find Chloe and bury the day away in her mischievous warmth. Unfortunately, that wish was next to impossible; considering she was avoiding him like the plague. He wondered if her reasons tied into his recent transgressions—in particular anyone Chloe might know personally—and their failure to fully resolve things.

He reached up, mussing up his hair, and sighed. The first ignored text he could pass off as an oversight. The second he attributed to her being tied up; though he hoped not literally, as _that_ right belonged solely to him. By the third, fourth, and fifth ignored text he started to worry. It wasn't like Chloe to fall off the grid. He'd even gone so far as to track down Emil.

The good doctor informed him Chloe had been fine early this morning, but had vanished by nightfall; although he did relate how distracted she seemed when last they spoke. Emil's conjecture was she must have run into a league issue and become singularly focused on finding a solution. Chloe often exemplified the one track mind, so his theory wasn't farfetched. One thing, however, did seem a bit confused: Emil sounded far too relaxed and apathetic in light of the situation. If he hadn't known Emil to be a straight shooter he would've sworn the man was drinking.

Oliver tried calling Chloe more, and when he reached her voicemail for the umpteenth time he decided to bite the bullet and go confront her. He grabbed his keys and shut down his office for the night.

Watchtower was lit up like a beacon along the Metropolis skyline and he rushed to get inside. Figuring out why Chloe had become evasive proved his only priority for the night. Once in the elevator, he submitted to the requisite scans and procedures while anxiously tapping his foot. Their security measures may be a necessity but that didn't make them any less tedious to bear.

The elevator came to a halt and he marched out, pushing open the double doors with haste. He stopped abruptly. Each and every computer screen looked like a cast off from the set of Poltergeist—nothing but static. Chloe was stationed at one of the consoles, typing furiously as she muttered to herself.

"So Carol Anne, are you trying to tell me something?" Oliver joked as he glanced around.

Chloe—ignoring his attempt at humor—looked up at him; her face twisted into a grimace. She noticed his wrinkled suit and figured he'd just come from the office. "I locked up the systems," she stated, wasting no time with pleasantries. "I'm just getting things back online now." The monitors suddenly sprang to life, information pouring in as she hurried to pacify her 'babies.'

Oliver started towards her. "I'm sorry, did you just say you locked up the systems? Why the hell would you do that?" He was confused. As far as he knew, there hadn't been any recent activity warranting such an extreme act, and he wondered what was going on.

As soon as he drew close enough he noticed her haggard appearance. Her hair was a mess and the black shirt she'd slipped on before leaving his apartment this morning was freshly ripped. "What the hell happened?"

Chloe turned to face him, looking endearingly pitiful with a split lip, the ghost of a bruise on her cheek and flakes of dried blood under her nose. Oliver winced. It was obvious his girl had been in a fight. "God Chloe," he murmured, tilting her face up to look at him.

Chloe sighed, absently leaning into his touch. "It's a long story. Clark had another run in with meteor rocks; some kind of gemstone."

"Clark did this?" Oliver shrugged off his jacket, tossing it in a nearby chair as he tugged at the buttons of his dress shirt.

Chloe sighed. "Not exactly. Whatever he was exposed to gave him some sort of mind control. Everyone he talked to took his suggestions...literally."

"You know, given the right user that could be a nifty power. Hmm," he mused, stroking his fingers across his chin. "A cute, snarky little blond who's convinced she's my love slave..."

Chloe smacked his arm. "Trust you to find the perversity in all this. It's been hell over here." She turned her attention back to the monitors. "Lois turned into Donna Reed for God's sake—replete with frilly white apron and pearls. And did you know Emil was a closet beer hound?" She'd been aghast upon making _that_ discovery. "I found bottles all over the place," she complained. "My Watchtower looked like a frat house!"

Oliver did his best to convey the appropriate amount of sympathy and censure, but picturing Lois as the iconic matriarch made it impossible for him to keep a straight face. He burst out laughing. "Donna Reed?" he wheezed. "Seriously? I would have paid _anything_ to see that." He giggled again. Lois must have been mortified by now.

"I'm sure you would," Chloe sardonically replied. "I've tried calling to apologize but she's not picking up."

"What do you have to be sorry for?" he asked. From what he knew, the cousins were exceptionally close—more like sisters actually, and he couldn't really think of a sound reason for them to be fighting.

"When Clark came by he told me I needed to focus on watching his back and leave the rest of the planet to him."

Oliver's eyes readily narrowed and he gently cursed. Clark was an asshole. After everything she'd done for the unerringly contemptible farm boy he actually had the gall to show up and demand from her more? What he wouldn't give for some green kryptonite right now...

"That's when I locked up the systems and made a beeline for the farm," Chloe continued. "I told Lois she was second string and that the best thing she could do for Clark would be to leave him...and a lot of other hateful things I fully regret right now. She was about in tears by the time I left her."

Oliver could tell how heavy the guilt weighed on her mind and he felt a piercing compulsion to ease it. "I'm sure she understands," he said soothingly. "Once she snapped out of it she'll have pieced things together quickly. We are talking about Lois after all."

Chloe smiled sweetly, grateful for his unwavering support. Oliver had been so wonderful lately, and more than once she'd found herself pondering what it would be like to keep him. "I know, but I still feel guilty." Chloe felt as though she slighted the only person she could truly count on in life. In spite of her unnerving abandonment issues she'd never blamed her cousin for disappearing after Doomsday—not like she had the others. As far as excuses went, being stuck in the future was a far cry better than drowning your sorrows in pussy and booze; so it was relatively easy to let Lois off the hook.

"So are you going to explain to me why you look like I felt during my fight club days?" Oliver inquired. He watched as her expression turned guarded; a fair tell she was hiding something.

"I had an...altercation of sorts," she stated in a roundabout way. "It's no big deal."

Oliver graced her with a cautioning glare. She was being deliberately cryptic and he wanted to know why.

Chloe took in his stern countenance and knew she'd have to come clean. Her voice was tight as she told him it was with Tess.

Oliver's jaw came unhinged. Any attempt at appearing compelling was lost as he sputtered, "Tess Mercer? _My_ Tess Mercer?"

"Yes, _you're_ Tess Mercer," Chloe snapped. She was vaguely perturbed at the possessive reference to his old flame. It was bad enough she felt inferior to her cousin and Dinah Lance, not to mention the interchangeable bevy of beauties he'd bedded in the not so distant past. But the abrasive redhead was in a singularly new league. Something about the woman kept Oliver in knots, and Chloe figured it was only a matter of time before he sought her out again.

Oliver winced and immediately rushed to correct her transparent—and unquestionably false—assumptions. The last thing he needed was Chloe agonizing over a woman he'd long since firmly relegated to 'ex.' "I didn't mean it like that," he assured as he studied her injuries with renewed intent. "What the hell did she do?"

"For once it wasn't her fault," Chloe grudgingly conceded. "Well, not entirely." She walked over to her desk, Oliver hot on her heels and pulled up an image on the touch screen. "I saw her as a threat to Clark and broke into her office at LutherCorp. I was planning to infect her system with a virus." She flashed him a rueful grin. "It didn't turn out the way I planned."

"I can see that," Oliver deadpanned.

Chloe glared. "I may not have succeeded in digital sabotage but I _did_ find out she's hacked our systems at Watchtower."

Oliver did a double take. "Excuse me?" He was well aware of how ruthless Tess could be, but her abject duplicity was beginning to grate on his nerves.

"I have a feeling Zod's been running the show for a while now," Chloe mused. "But something happened to make her shake off the puppet strings. She wanted to form an alliance in order to protect Clark—something about ruling over all the Kandorians."

"I take it you didn't accept?"

"Hardly," she scoffed. "I pulled a gun and she kicked me, we went through a plate glass table...fun times."

For the second time that night Oliver was flabbergasted. He reached out and gripped her arm. "God Chloe, are you ok?"

"I'll be fine," she replied curtly; pulling away. All she'd really gained from the experience was a severely bruised ego and she wanted nothing more than to forget about it. "I'm just a little banged up."

Shaking his head, Oliver rooted around her desk and pulled out a first aid kit. He pushed her towards the chair. "Sit," he commanded as he set up the items he deemed important.

Chloe's eyebrows shot up; a derisive combination of indignant and amused. "What, am I Fido now?" she grumbled under her breath. "Chloe sit, Chloe stay." Despite her irritation she sat down as instructed and waiting for him to proceed.

Oliver pulled off her shirt and gently prodded her shoulder. She had a decent sized gash along the top; most likely from the table she'd earlier mentioned. "You really went at it," he softly intoned; pouring antiseptic onto a cotton ball and pressing it against the cut.

She hissed at the ardent sting. "I couldn't stop," she whispered. "Even when she had a gun pointed at my face." She shivered at the memory of feeling so reckless. For Chloe, control was akin to religion. Having it so brutally displaced had left her invariably shaken, and not the least bit disturbed.

For his part, Oliver was struggling with visions of her insecure and trembling; feeling utterly alone in such a vulnerable state. He set the cotton ball down and pulled her into an embrace; fingers gently clutching her hair. "Whatever this gemstone is, we need to make sure someone safely contains it," he quietly affirmed.

"Already on it," Chloe told him, her hands nestling against his back. "Emil's having it analyzed just to be sure."

Oliver nodded and let her slip from his embrace. He didn't say anything more about it. Instead he deftly and efficiently finished patching her up. "Well you don't need stitches," he announced. "But you're going to be sore. Do you have any painkillers?"

"I'll check upstairs." Chloe swiftly pulled on her shirt. It was ruined, but intact enough to suffice for the time being. "This has got to be the strangest Valentine's Day on record."

"Yea, you spent it with Tess Mercer," he joked.

And back to his Achilles heel, Chloe thought bitterly. "About Tess..." she pointedly hedged.

Oliver sighed and stepped away from her, studying her expression closely. He'd known the subject would come up eventually, but he'd hoped for longer to prepare a response. "You want to know about my relationship with her."

Chloe shrugged. "I just find it hard to believe she was someone you spent months trying to win back." Tess's allegiance had never been in question; she made no bones about being their adversary, yet Oliver continually overlooked it in order to woo her to his bed—and potentially his heart. But with Chloe, he acted as if she'd committed not one but several cardinal sins. He treated her like shit after Doomsday while Tess held near constant carte blanche. She had to admit, the situation stung.

"Tess is...well, she _was_ complicated," he admitted.

"Why," Chloe pressed. "Because little Ollie has a hard time playing possum when she's around?"

"Seriously?" he questioned. He knew Chloe was attempting to seem aloof but he could see the anger, jealousy and betrayal resting behind her lies.

"You know, I've always been curious," she continued heedlessly. "You knew she was morally gray at best but you pursued her anyway; even at the potential expense of Clark. I want to know why."

Oliver scrubbed a hand over his face. "After I brought her back from the island she lived with me in Star City."

Chloe rolled her eyes. "Everyone knows that Oliver, just like they know you started fucking her again last fall, despite knowing she was firmly entrenched with Lex. Remember him? The man who made our lives a living _hell_?" Chloe stood and stalked around to the front of her desk, stopping to rest against it. "And let's not forget how you salivated over her like a dog in heat while the rest of us were dealing with Doomsday." Wow. Apparently her issues went far deeper than she realized. She didn't intend to borderline on cruel, but once the floodgates opened she found it near impossible to stop.

Oliver's expression hardened, anger settling into his core. "Tell me you didn't just go there," he grated. The only thing keeping him from losing his temper was an innate understanding of her loss. He slid his eyes over her face and sighed. He knew she would never believe him, but despite his flirtation with Tess getting Chloe away from Davis had always been his top priority. Stupidity notwithstanding—he grieved for her.

"I talked to Clark," she mentioned. "He told me how much you spent on the merger and why." She absently began picking at her jeans, feeling a slight twinge of guilt. She was already on edge from her disaster of a holiday, and Oliver had unwittingly and inadvertently become her scapegoat. "I'm sorry. I guess I'm still a little resentful about you using our afflictions as an opportunity to get _Mercy_ into bed."

"Do you honestly see it that way?" Oliver was truly curious; just as he was also beginning to feel the stirrings of remorse. At the time, Chloe's emotional state had felt more like an abstract concept than cause for personal consideration. She was already orbiting Jimmy, and Oliver had never viewed her that way. Well, not for long enough to count. They were barely friends, and Chloe didn't exist as even a negligible factor in his decision to court Tess.

"You were an asshole Oliver. We were fighting for our lives while simultaneously protecting the world and what did you do? You were off getting in a little target practice."

"I didn't sleep with her," he reiterated harshly.

"Not that time," she spat. "You were interrupted as I recall."

Oliver sighed and counted to fifty. He was angry, yes. But he understood why this was such a difficulty for her. "Look, just...put all that aside for a minute," he entreated. "Tess was one of the many casualties of my flailing ego. She didn't deserve to be treated that way."

"_Please_ tell me you're not chalking it up to guilt, Oliver."

"Of course not. But I _do_ think that betraying her and leaving her defenseless kick started her fixation with Lex," he reasoned. "When I met her again, she wasn't the Tess I knew on that island."

"But she was still the Tess you wanted," Chloe pointed out.

"At the time, yes," he admitted. He slid beside her and sat down on the desk. "As you've said before, I was morally ambiguous; much like she is now come to think of it. I didn't feel the need to let her delinquency keep me from enjoying other...facets of her."

"Well that's certainly a nice way of putting it."

"I was intrigued," Oliver explained. "On the island...she had so much hope. She believed the good in people and it was exactly what I needed. I was already so jaded, and she helped heal a part of me I thought I'd lost when I was five."

Chloe immediately felt chagrined. She knew how affected Oliver had been by the horrific loss of his parents. "You fell in love with her," she mused.

Oliver shrugged. "Maybe. I don't really know actually. But when I saw her again, everything changed." He recalled how scrappy Tess had been and chuckled. "She rejected me flat out and proved my equal in every way. It made me want her in spite of her connection to Lex."

"I guess you've always had an affinity for strong women," she conceded. "They're the only ones who've managed to stick around longer than a week." In point of fact; Tess and Lois held the distinct honor of being the only women with which Oliver could claim any semblance of a relationship—though his efforts _were_ rather mediocre.

"I'm a screwed up person, Chloe. I went after Tess because it was exciting and fun. I've always been that way. The shit hits the fan and I find an excuse to party." His expression grew pained as he remembered how cold and callous he'd grown. He wasn't proud of his behavior; hadn't been for a long time. In fact, it was only just recently—with Chloe—that he felt he might be capable of redemption.

"The prosaic ostrich idiom in practice, she cited.

"Funny," he dryly remarked. Heaving a breath, he lightly stretched the muscles in his neck in a futile attempt to relax. He felt inordinately burdened. Looking back, severing any romantic ties with Tess wasn't a difficult or even debatable decision for him to make. Chloe's wakeup call combined with Carter's sage advice had served to place him on a familiar yet neoteric path. For the first time in his life, he envisioned himself with a fighting chance at becoming worthy of his parents memory. "The Tess from the island is gone," he asserted. "And I've moved on from her; from who she was _and_ who she is."

Chloe softly smiled. "So what made you officially close the Tess chapter of your life?" she inquired, bumping him with her hip.

Oliver tilted his head to look at her. "Lex, Jimmy, Lois...you," he listed. "What happened—it changed everybody's lives, Chloe—not just yours."

"I've never debated that," she said. Doomsday and Jimmy had irrevocably altered the course of their lives, and she wasn't vain enough to place her own pain above that of her companions.

"I know you haven't, Chloe." He took a deep breath, momentarily debating if he should broach the subject. Jimmy was definitely a sore point for her. "At some point, we're going to have to talk about it," he said with slight hesitation. "I think we both have some issues there, and a lot of them are with each other."

Thankfully, Chloe didn't respond in anger, or any other turbulent emotion. "I won't argue with that," she stated. She stood up, whirling around to face him. "Have you eaten yet?" she asked, deftly maneuvering the subject. "Because I didn't. I got a bit side tracked." She was done with redundant emoting and wanted to move on.

"So I've seen," he replied, grateful for the reprieve. Chloe looked about ready to collapse, and truth be told, he was feeling pretty drained himself. "I came straight here so...no." He stood up as well. "You want to grab something?"

"Honestly, I'd prefer we pick it up and head back to your place. I'm exhausted." There was a nice Indian restaurant nearby and she had hopes of settling onto his couch with a plateful of chicken vindaloo and a glass of red wine.

Oliver nodded his agreement. "I bet you are," he acknowledged, slinging an arm across her shoulders and leading her towards the doors. Chloe leaned into him and nestled snugly against his side. He smiled down at her. "Come on, let's go home."


	5. Chapter 5

I am adding my own teensy quirk to canon starting here. Again, I apologize for any errors.

* * *

Oliver was just exiting his bedroom when Chloe stormed into the penthouse, laptop bag slung haphazardly over her shoulder.

"Someone murdered Brensen Lask," she announced without preamble.

Oliver halted, eyebrows jumping to his hairline as a quizzical expression marred his face. He was surprised. He hadn't expected to see Chloe for at least another two days; once he had swallowed his pride and presented her with some jocular aim at apology. "Brensen what now?" he asked, pulling a gray t-shirt on over his jeans. He'd just finished up with a shower when his security system heralded her arrival.

"Brensen Lask," she impatiently replied, carefully setting her bag on the couch. "He's a metahuman with some substantial manipulation capabilities. We're talking people, events, time—the possibilities are endless Oliver." His abilities _were_ staggering, and the worry now lay in who garnered them. "With Lois's jaunt to the apocalypse and Tess's little mind meld, I think he could be connected.

"You think Tess wanted to use him." Oliver wouldn't be surprised. Tess wasn't above a little friendly kidnapping in order to secure her...interests.

"I don't know. For some reason, I'm leaning more towards Kandorian on this one. Their recent setback peeved them at best." Chloe peeled off her jacket and kicked off her shoes; her feet felt sore and laden. She'd been on them all day.

"But don't forget, Tess has provisionally bunked down with Zod, which means she's down with his band of merry psychopaths too," he pointed out.

"I don't doubt her involvement Oliver, I doubt her control." Chloe sat down and unzipped her bag, removing her laptop. She set it up on the coffee table and typed in a few commands before turning it to face him. "Look at this. Brensen was a resident of Belle Reeve until December. He was last seen getting into this car sometime after New Years," she said, pointing at the screen. "He turned up dead six weeks later. I don't think it's a coincidence his death coincided with the destruction of the solar towers."

Oliver sat down beside her and studied the image on the screen. Brensen Lask was an utterly vacuous and average looking human being. Unassuming was the word that sprang to mind. He turned towards Chloe. "You're thinking he served his purpose and whoever was pulling his puppet strings decided he qualified for early retirement."

Chloe shrugged. "That's one possibility. The weird thing is, I've seen this guy. I was leaving the Metro Coffee Stop and we literally bumped into each other."

Oliver was immediately concerned. For him, Chloe in peril was never a favorable event; Davis and doomsday being a prime example of his violent and imbecilic response. But now, his frequent anxiety of her general well being seemed strangely...accentuated. "Did he do anything?" He shifted closer, thoughtlessly seeking out some sort of tangible reminder she was here and ok.

"Nothing comes to mind. We barely even made eye contact." Chloe had brushed off the encounter as soon as she left the cafe. Nothing unusual or sinister stood out. "I'd completely forgotten about it until I saw the news."

"Still," Oliver insisted, "it's suspicious. Meta's don't bump into us Chloe. There's always a reason." He leaned forward, focusing on the computer. "The car he got into, did you check the license plate?"

Chloe bristled. Of course she'd checked—she wasn't an amateur for God's sake. She swatted his hand away. "I'm already on it," she tersely responded, showing him the search results she'd been scanning prior to leaving for his apartment.

"LutherCorp," he noted grimly.

"So we really _are_ looking at Tess and the Kandorians." The news was hardly unexpected, but being prepared did little to quell her sense of foreboding.

"Tess seems to have her hand in anything shady these days so it doesn't surprise me." Oliver leaned his head back. "We have to find out _why_ they took him."

"Well he was last seen at Met Gen so we'll start there." Chloe glanced over at him. "Oliver, you know we can't tell Clark."

Oliver bit down on his lip. He was concerned with the questionable path she seemed to be advancing towards. Lois had told him of a few incidents in the past—mostly surrounding Clark. But lately she'd been far too focused on the bottom line while wittingly ignoring her controversial means of getting there. It made her seem...incongruously amoral. "Don't you think we're hiding enough from him lately?" he questioned.

"He's still bent on joining the brotherhood with Zod," she disagreed. "Clark is convinced his ways are best, regardless of the evidence you present him." She gave an unladylike snort. "And good luck getting him to see any reason other than his own. I just don't trust him with this."

Oliver was irritated by her blatant double standards. "Trust is a recurring theme with you, isn't it?" he asked snidely. "You brutally demand it but you're sure as hell loathe to return the favor."

Chloe's eyes narrowed in warning. She'd only been doing what she thought was right, and Oliver raked her over the coals in retaliation for it. She would certainly be addressing _that_ issue, but finding out about Brensen's catastrophic associations took precedence at the moment. "Can we put aside you're abject insecurities and focus on the task at hand?" She hunched over her computer and began typing. "I need you to contact Victor; see what he can dig up on his time at Belle Reeve and also, see if he can track the cars movements. It'd be nice if we could find where Tess was keeping him," she instructed.

Oliver stood up and headed towards his office. "What are you going to do?" he asked, just before he reached the door.

She looked up. "Search his family tree, any known acquaintances—put some feelers out there." A grave expression flitted across her face. "I highly doubt Tess stopped at one, Ollie."

* * *

Oliver sighed, scrubbing his hands restlessly over his face. He'd been at this for over an hour. Victor found the information quickly, and Oliver was currently trying to piece together a timeline for Chloe. He was tired and hungry, and strangely, he needed a hug. He gathered the necessary printouts and shut down his computer before making his way back to the living room. Chloe was nestled against the couch; laptop resting on her knees as she sipped absently at a steaming cup of coffee. She was singularly focused on her research and failed to take note of his entrance.

He cleared his throat. "Did you want to grab something to eat?" he asked, rather timidly.

Chloe glanced at him. An oddly cynical expression slid over her face and he winced. "You know, booty calls generally don't require dates. It's a given rule you're getting laid."

And there it is, he thought derisively. "I walked right into that one, didn't I?" He moved to sit down next to her. "You know, I'm sorry. I was pissed and I was hurt."

Chloe shifted slightly to accommodate his presence. "Emoticons aside, it's an accurate description." Before she'd gotten caught up in Brensen, the majority of her day was spent dwelling on Oliver's words. The comment stung, as did his characterization of her as a whore. But she was quick to realize his callous account had a purpose. Lately, she'd been growing far too complacent in their...arrangement. Hearing his take on the matter served to rectify that mistake.

Oliver cursed himself thoroughly. He was painfully apt to speak before thinking about the generally grim and often obvious consequences, and once again his errant mouth had bit him succinctly in the ass. She was finally growing easy and with a few choice words he'd forced them back to square one. "Chloe..."

She waved him off. "It's fine Oliver. We agreed no strings and you simply reiterated that fact."

He ignored her dismissal and slid closer, placing his hand on her knee. "Come on Chlo, it has nothing to do with our relationship."

Chloe scoffed, arching one perfectly manicured brow while adroitly avoiding his gaze. "We don't _have_ a relationship Ollie." While it was true she may have considered it one beforehand—as friendship could fall within a similar vein—her opinion had been decisively swayed. "Why are we even fighting anyway?" she asked indifferently.

"Because you lied to me and I insulted you...in poor taste."

"Oliver—"

"Do you even realize what kind of position you put me in Chloe?" He had planned on keeping mum on the matter, but having her run roughshod over his feelings urged him to go ahead and voice his complaint. "I was completely ignorant yet you expected me to blithely cover your ass when Tess noticed the bleed."

She took a sip of her coffee. "You weren't supposed to find out. The funds were supposed to be replaced."

Oliver snorted. "How Chloe? You're not exactly rolling in green here. And apart from all that you exposed yourself to _Tess _of all people. Motives aside we know she's involved in some hinky undertakings. She was spying on us for Christ's sake, and now she's on your radar for murder! She is _not_ the person you want to be making yourself vulnerable to." He reached out, taking her coffee and setting it on the table. e was tired of being ignored. "But the real question is, why hide it from me?"

Chloe set down her laptop, affording him her full attention. "Liability Oliver. Pure and simple. You were in the clear," she explained. "If Tess found the weapons, any charges she threw at you would have been stamped null and void. I needed you disengaged in order to run the league. I know you'll get things done when the rest of the team turns chicken heart. You being forced out of commission was _not_ a risk I could take." Embezzlement was not something she entered into lightly and Chloe had thought long and hard about her decision; including Oliver's reaction. "And then there's Clark," she continued. "He expects this sort of thing from me. We have the routine down to a science. But you stabbed him in the back—literally. I don't think he'll be as forgiving."

Oliver wasn't sure what to say. In all honesty he'd never looked at it that way. He felt a certain sense of righteous entitlement when confronting her, but now all he felt was guilt. She'd only been acting out of a staunch need to protect him—and the league. She hadn't deserved his cruelty. "I can see your reasoning; I can even appreciate it a little. But I don't need you keeping me in the dark out of some warped sense of duty. We're a team Chloe."

Chloe's voice was hesitant as she spoke. "I know, but I also needed you out of the way." Oliver was floored. "If you knew you would have hijacked the entire operation and potentially jumpstarted a war. For so many reasons, I just couldn't have you involved."

"Yet it was my involvement that kept your stash safe from Tess's grubby little hands," he pointed out.

"So we're at an impasse then." She picked up her coffee and stood. It had been a trying day, and her nerves were poorly frayed. She wanted their confrontation settled up. "Let's just call it a stalemate and move on."

Oliver followed her into the kitchen, watching as she rinsed out her cup before placing it in the sink. He was by no means finished, but realized the need for a break. "You hungry?"

Chloe turned to face him, and the barest hint of a smile tugged at the corner of her lips. "I could eat."

Oliver rummaged around in the fridge, pulling out the necessities for a few sandwiches. "Simple but filling," he said, moving to the pantry for bread.

"So, any thoughts on Tess's agenda?" Chloe asked, grateful he'd allowed her some time to regroup.

Oliver shrugged, cutting her sandwich in half and sliding over the plate. "She's scared, I know that much. Whatever she saw in the future, it's a deciding factor."

Chloe nodded as she chewed. Fear was an emotion with which she could easily empathize. Simply hearing of her imminent death had spurred her into action, and she pegged Tess as much the same way. "I can actually relate," she admitted. "At least Clark took out the towers before it's too late."

"Fully charged megalomaniacs is not a scenario I'd like to be around for," he agreed before swiftly devouring his dinner and pushing aside his plate. He noticed as Chloe absently rubbed her belly. For some reason, the gesture didn't strike him as akin to a sated appetite. He remembered the way she died—callously run through by a warring Kandorian—and he visibly cringed. Even abstract, the thought was enough fuel his nightmares for months.

Clark's conveniently thrust us in the need to know box, but Tess managed to see almost as much as he did. Maybe this is her way of fixing her future." Chloe finished off her sandwich and started to clean up. "It bothers me that she's allied herself with Zod despite everything she's seen. It's such an inherently Lex move, and we both know how those tended to play out."

"Garish mayhem and destruction," he deadpanned. "She's certainly not leaving me with the warm and fuzzies but I feel like I'm missing something here. Tess almost always has an angle, so which one is she playing with Zod?"

Chloe wiped her hands on a dishrag, sliding it back through the hook when she was done. She turned to face him. "That's a good question." Though Oliver knew her best, Chloe had amassed enough dealings with Tess to realize the woman consistently had backup plans for her backup plans; many of them contradictory. Tess was a master at playing both sides of the fence. "Clark's a problem though. I realize he doesn't fully trust Zod, but his naivety's still grossly apparent. He's making such a huge mistake in believing Zod can even remotely conform here."

Oliver moved to stand beside her, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "You warned him Chloe, that's all anyone could do."

"Not all Oliver," she remarked.

"The weapons."

"Exactly." She looked up at him, almost pleadingly. "Can't you see why I had to do something?"

Oliver dropped his hand. Yes, he could absolutely see why she felt such a furious compulsion to take action and intercede. She had tragically failed with Jimmy; with everyone really, and she was desperately overcompensating for it. "I get it Chloe, I do. But you _lied_ to me." He knew he should let it go; that dwelling on it would only serve to impede things, but he was simply incapable of being reasonable at this point.

Chloe was aggravated; she felt like they were beating a dead horse with a kryptonite stick. "I already explained that and I stand by my decision. You said we were a team," she reminded him. "And sometimes a team—or team _member_—has to deviate. Y ou've done it yourself Oliver." She leaned back, crossing her arms against her chest as she glared up at him. "And while we're on the subject, I couldn't help but notice how awfully quick you were in assuming the worst of me. Is that really what you think?"

Oliver had the grace to look ashamed, and he reached out to brush a piece of hair back from her face. "I never should have said that," he admitted. "You know I lash out..."

Shrugging, she replied, "Maybe. But I think it was a good lesson for us. We broke the trust a long time ago, and we fooled ourselves into thinking we got it back."

He drew back as if burned. "I know we both screwed up, but it's no cause to rewrite our history."

Chloe sighed deeply. The thought had been floating around in her mind for quite some time, and it seemed now was the perfect opportunity to give voice. "Were we ever really friends?"

Oliver's heart plummeted. The stripped uncertainty in her voice was gut wrenching. "How can you even ask me that?"

"I thought maybe, in the beginning," she continued heedlessly, almost as she failed to register his response. "But so much has happened...I'm not sure I know why we even try."

Oliver slid in front of her, pressing her body against the counter. "We're different now," he insisted. Things had significantly changed in the past few months and he was bothered by her belittlement of their friendship.

"Are we?" she pressed. "Because I think this incident proves otherwise."

"That's not true." He forced her head up to meet his gaze. "_I_ trusted you Chloe. I trusted you."

She gazed at him sadly. "No, I don't think you did. You leaned on me; needed me even. But there's a difference."

Oliver dropped his hand and stepped away. "Do you honestly think I would have reacted so poorly if I didn't trust or care about you?"

Chloe let out a breath, feeling imperceptibly wary. "I don't know."

He threw his arms up in frustration–resembling a crane—and shouted, "Well that's just great Chloe. I take a risk and put it on the line while you start sounding the retreat!" He fixed her with a glare. "Maybe you're right then. Maybe we haven't changed."

Chloe pushed away from the counter in order to stomp back into the living room. "This is _exactly_ what I didn't want," she complained. God, this was starting to resemble her fights with a certain shit haired alien and she felt it an unacceptable comparison for her to be having to make.

"You think because sex is now a component we're suddenly limited?" he snapped as he followed her. "We _are_ friends Chloe. Hell, you're the best friend I've ever had and that shit _hurt_. Am I not allowed to feel any affection or ache just because we fuck on a regular basis? "

"I didn't say that," she said dejectedly before flopping down on the couch. "I just think it's all getting a little too involved." All of their prior arguments pertained solely to their sex life, which enabled Chloe to gleefully compartmentalize. Their present disagreement felt all too concrete and it scared her.

He sat down next to her, tugging at the ends of his hair. It suddenly occurred to him _why_ she was so desperate to use this to ensure distance. Chloe was terrified of intimacy—appropriately so—and Oliver had been forcing it in spades. Even with Jimmy she had the buffer of superiority, but here she was on emphatically equal footing. Oliver sighed. He was tired of fighting and decided he wanted to segue into the subject of reconciliation. It wouldn't be the first time they had resolved their differences with sex. It was actually a rather successful mode of coping.

He caught her attention and smiled gamely. "I'll make you a deal," he offered, pleased when she failed at hiding her curiosity. He took her hand, delicately lacing their fingers. "We agree we were both assholes." When she indulged no argument he reached out and swung her around, situating each of her knees to firmly—and pleasingly—grip his narrow hips. "And that we both have copious amounts groveling to do."

Continuing to press his luck, he tucked one arm about her waist and slid his free hand achingly slow along her spine to reach purchase at the base of her neck. Her eyes were dazed and his grin stretched to insufferable proportions. "And we never again employ sex as a weapon," he finished before wrenching her down for a kiss. Only when he felt she was sufficiently quaked did he relax his hold. An astonished and sweet little smile slid across her lips and Oliver inwardly preened.

Chloe, on the other hand, was inordinately pleased with the way her brain felt like someone had scoured it clean, leaving her blissfully contented and free. She reveled in what Oliver could accomplish with a simple and talented slip of his tongue. "I could agree to that," she said after a while.

Oliver graced her with a laugh. They still had a lot to work through, but for the moment they were on harmonious ground, which meant sex was not only back on the table, it was expected and inspired. "Good, because I want to fuck you right now, Chloe." He brazenly copped a feel.

Throwing him a salacious wink, Chloe painstakingly slid from his lap. She impishly glanced towards the bedroom and held out a hand; implication rife. "Feel like getting a head start on that groveling Mr. Queen?"

Oliver stood quickly and pulled her into his embrace. He kissed her again; mood fluctuating between horny and contrite. Before things fell apart—however enjoyably—he needed to make one thing abundantly clear. "You're not a booty call," he told her softly.

Chloe paused, as if contemplating, and nodded her assent. "I know. Just...don't say I'm more—not yet."

He stepped away from her, gently squeezing her hand and began guiding them down the hall. "Then I'll just dig into my box of clichés and tell you that you're _booty_ is the best I've ever had and I can't live without it."

Chloe's smile lit up her face and she giggled as he suddenly reached out, slinging her over his shoulder in order to rush them to his room. He smacked her ass. Definitely the best, he thought with a squeeze before kicking the door shut behind him.


	6. Chapter 6

Well the quirk has grown, so I've decided to simply go where the story takes me; though it should still tie easily into canon. That said, this is still a Chloe and Oliver centric piece focused mainly on what it takes to get them from point a to b, with plenty of introspective musings on both their parts. Hope it makes for happy reading! As usual, I apologize for any errors...

* * *

Oliver was floating blissfully between sleep and awake, Chloe nestled securely against his side. He inched closer, nuzzling her cheek as he breathed deeply. He loved the way she smelled; spicy and sweet with a hint of ripe comfort. Fundamentally Chloe, he doubted it came captured solely from a bottle. He sighed happily before gently extricating himself, smiling as she clutched at the pillow in his absence.

He stood up, stretching languidly. His muscles were a little tight; a testament to Chloe's fervent ways at apology. Never let it be said she was meek. He rooted around for some sweats and pulled them on before padding silently into the kitchen. He grabbed a bag of dark roast and set about making a pot. Chloe typically woke about 20 minutes after him and he liked to have her caffeine fix at the ready.

He leaned against the counter as he waited. Yesterday had offered some surprising insights and revelations into Chloe's psyche; not to mention his own—but he felt as if he'd resolved his issues with the shuttered blond. Now he had to deal with the fallout. Chloe had blindsided him, and the resulting amalgamate of hurt and betrayal left him struggling to stay afloat. But it was her disregard of their friendship that gutted him.

His reaction had been immediate and rather visceral. He never stopped to consider her side of things; too blinded by his own righteous indignation to be rational, and he had to wonder why. He mulled it over for a bit. "Shit," he muttered, shooting ramrod straight as the answer hit him. He actually cared for her—as in the future that's beating him in the face has them still together in it type of cared. Surprisingly, the thought wasn't wholly unwelcome—and he suddenly struggled to breathe. Sheer terror skulked up his spine as he clenched his eyes shut; willing himself to keep the feeling at bay.

He didn't do futures or ineffectual wishes he could have brought her home to meet his parents. He wasn't _that_ guy. He vehemently told himself to calm down. There had to be a rational explanation for his lunacy; he just needed to find it. He took a deep breath and began. If he thought about things, it was inevitable he have _some_ feelings for Chloe. They were already friends—best friends actually—despite her misgivings to the contrary. And considering the vast amounts of sex they'd been gleefully indulging in...well, he'd have to be bordering on cruel not to at least care a little. So it was fine, he surmised. Besides, he didn't _need_ her romantically, and there were no strings; therefore, he had absolutely no reason to worry. He smiled, evidently relieved that his terror had been quelled and he patted himself on the back.

The coffee beeped and Oliver prepared two cups. He added cream and sugar to Chloe's and placed hers on the island before sitting down with the paper. Scanning the front page, a gruesome headline caught his eye and stopped to read it, thankful for the distraction.

A 19 year old girl named Annie Rasser was found on the outskirts of Metropolis yesterday morning. According to the article there were ligature marks on her hands and feet along with evidence of a severe beating. But the truly horrifying thing was the way her skull had been cracked open like a coconut, and someone had attempted what looked to be surgery on her brain.

Oliver looked up as Chloe stumbled in, looking adorably mussed in his oversized t-shirt. He passed over her coffee as she sat down beside him and absently kissed her cheek before he continued reading.

Chloe tiredly took a sip; savoring the rich, cocoa tinted warmth as it pooled down her throat. She smiled, absurdly pleased that he knew just how she took her coffee. In fact, there were a lot of things Oliver seemed to know about her she apparently took for granted. He was right. They _were_ friends, and she had been horrid to suggest otherwise. She couldn't forget that despite everything Oliver did come for her—and doomsday's tragic ending was not of his making. She didn't blame him for Jimmy—not at all; though she _did_ blame him for leaving. Chloe shook her head, quick to stifle her train of thought. There was no need to ruin their morning with maudlin musings on an unsettled past.

Oliver set aside the paper, catching her eye. "I'm thinking French Toast. You game?"

"So long as I don't have to cook, I'll eat anything."

"Oh really?" Oliver inquired with a leer.

"Pervert," she accused him good naturedly, pushing him away in favor of drinking her coffee.

Oliver just grinned brashly and got up, pulling milk and eggs from the refrigerator. "There should be some cinnamon and nutmeg in the spice rack," he told her.

Chloe handed him the spices and sat back down, content to watch him work. He was completely at home in the kitchen and she was hit with an overwhelming sense of gratitude that she was able to bear witness to such an incongruent sight. The tension from yesterday seemed to have successfully moved on and she was determined not to bring it back. She knew full well he could have walked away in light of what she'd done, and she wouldn't blame him for it either. Her intentions were noble, yes, but that didn't erase the suffering she'd doled out.

"Two or three?" Oliver asked as he placed a few pieces on the skillet.

"Three." Chloe was hungry. Groveling worked up an appetite. She rested her chin in her hand, allowing herself the rare freedom of introspection. In all honestly, most of her issues stemmed from being notably emotionally stunted. She was a master at deflection; personal or otherwise. But Oliver was stunted too, so perhaps they could grow and learn together for a change.

"Can you grab the orange juice?" he asked, deftly flipping the bread. "There's a carafe in the cabinet"

Chloe filled the carafe three quarters of the way full and placed it on the island. She grabbed a couple of glasses and some silverware too, enjoying the domesticity of it all. The simple familiarity provided a safe haven from the near constant upheaval they seemed to face on a weekly basis.

Oliver soon plated their food and joined her. "Brensen Lask was a meta, right?" he asked as he poured himself a glass of juice.

Chloe picked up her fork. "A powerful one. Why?"

"Take a look at this." He slid the paper to her and she ate as she read about Annie.

"She was released in January. That's right after Brensen."

"Two metas dead within days of each other, and both patients at Belle Reve." Oliver chewed thoughtfully. "It reeks of the basis for a Dean Koontz novel."

"Someone sliced and diced Brensen's brain too," Chloe absently mentioned.

Oliver stared at her incredulously. "And you didn't think to mention that little tidbit last night?" He didn't think he would ever understand her mind and how she determined what was of import.

Chloe looked sheepish. "I was more focused on potential connections. But Annie's death changes the ball game." She stood up, intent on gleaning a few answers. "We need to see if any more deaths have occurred."

Oliver shook his head, smiling as she strode out of the room. Despite momentarily deflecting her journalism dreams, the intrepid reporter moniker still fit her like a glove. She hounded after information like Lois after a legitimate source. He finished up his breakfast, not particularly surprised Chloe still hadn't returned. Something must have caught her attention. He cleared the island, placing the dishes in the sink and wandered over to the couch. Chloe was perched on the edge, typing away at her computer. "Find something?" he asked.

"I'm not sure. Barry Wells, a 20 year old from Granville. When I researched Brensen this guy came up on his list of acquaintances. They grew up together actually."

Oliver sat down, looking over her shoulder. "Lobotomy number three. Well that's certainly not hinky."

"Tell me about it. He was found in January; same dump site and everything. And get this, Barry was suspected of being a meta. Friends and family say he was an excellent judge of character and he had an uncanny knack for predicting a person's actions. It was almost as if he could read minds."

Oliver snorted. "Yea, I'd say that's a definite sign he's _special_."

"Exactly. So we have Brensen and Barry who were childhood friends, and Annie and Brensen who were both in Belle Reve. I guess Brensen's the obvious common denominator here."

"And Annie's abilities?"

"It just says she's psionic. If I can access her records I can find specifics." She stood up just as Oliver commandeered her laptop and began typing. "I should probably head to Watchtower."

Before she had managed three steps Oliver pushed the laptop aside and reached out, quickly snagging her wrist. "I put Victor on it," he said, tugging her into his lap. "I don't feel like working today."

Chloe smirked down at him. "Playing hooky? How very deviant of you."

Running his hands over her back he replied, "No, I just have a lap full of blond that's a hell of a lot more interesting than sitting through our next strategic planning meeting. Those things are _boring_." He began nuzzling her neck.

"Hmm." She tiled her head, emitting little sounds of encouragement as he nibbled along her jugular. "I think you're trying to distract me," she murmured.

He grinned against her neck. "Is it working?"

"Absolutely."

Chloe squeaked when Oliver turned abruptly, causing them to fall backwards on the couch. He tangled his fingers in her hair, kissing her deeply. Her legs fell to either side of his waist and Oliver discovered she wasn't wearing any underwear. Just as his hand reached pay dirt a resounding ping interrupted them. Oliver groaned when Chloe immediately reacted, pushing herself away and smiling down at him apologetically.

"I have to check," she said sheepishly.

"Oh, come on," he complained when she sat up and reached for her computer.

"Victor sent the records."

Oliver sighed in resignation, realizing he'd lost to a more enterprising cause—in her mind anyway— before he sat up and peered at the screen. He had to admit, he was a bit curious himself.

"Wow, she's impressive," Chloe said. "She can plant, alter or erase memories and according to this she's empathic. Not only can she control emotions but she can broadcast them at long range to a specific target."

Oliver blew out a breath. "I'm glad I never ran into her in the field. Sounds like she could do some real damage."

"Brensen's no slouch either," she commented. "If Barry's abilities are anything like theirs..."

"Only extremely powerful metas are being targeted. Think it's a serial killer?"

"I don't know." Chloe pulled up another search to cross reference similarities and let out a deep, disapproving groan. "I can't believe I didn't notice this but Annie was last seen at Met Gen too."

Oliver chuckled and couldn't resist the urge to tease. She was always so diligent; her information air tight and instantaneous. "Are you admitting you're not infallible, Professor?"

"Very funny." She pulled up the patient logs for both days. "They both checked in with neurology."

Oliver leaned back, linking his hands behind his head. "OK, we have a common denominator but two different methods linking the victims. We also have the same head injury for all three. On two we have the same psychiatrist and the same hospital department. I feel like we're playing connect the dots with a Rorschach here."

Chloe could empathize with his frustration. The potential for catastrophe was tremendous in a case like this, especially considering their alter egos and related associations. "Three murders with glaring similarities and nothing concrete to connect them."

"I don't know. Brensen was connected to LutherCorp; the others could be too. If so, there's your smoking gun."

"You think Tess is somehow turning Curtis Knox on us? It seems extreme Ollie, even for her."

"Like you said, maybe it's her way of fixing her future."

She glanced at him, slightly surprised by his willingness to accept Tess as a sociopathic villain. Chloe, however, remained dubious. "But experimenting on metas? 33.1 was Lex's gig, not hers...or so I thought."

Oliver shrugged. "I know she shut down Black Creek but, she is his protégé." In truth, he doubted Tess was involved in anything quite so...sick, but he'd learned the hard way not to underestimate her capability for ruthless brutality in the interest of her goals. "It honestly sounds more like a Zod fetish to me, but I definitely think it's an avenue worth pursuing."

Chloe nodded. "Unfortunately, there's not much we can do for now except play wait and see. But I'll be keeping an eye on things. I have a feeling this is only the beginning." Chloe was worried. If their theories were correct whoever was behind this could potentially go after the league. Oliver had access to the best of everything, and his team was no different. He had amassed some extremely powerful metas to attain his vision of justice. She stretched and stood, heading back into the kitchen for more coffee.

Oliver followed, his thoughts unwittingly mirroring hers. "We should probably give the team a heads up," he suggested.

Chloe poured herself a cup and turned to face him. "We may need to do more than that," she amended as she added her sugar and cream. "They have resources we might need."

Oliver took pause. "Full disclosure? Well color me surprised."

"This could affect them too."

"Oh, I know. I just figured you would dole out information according to the Sullivan rulebook and insist on absolute obedience." Chloe's eyes narrowed and Oliver swung his hands up in mock surrender. "Don't get your panties in a twist Sidekick, I'm just teasing."

Chloe raised an eyebrow. "Why do I think there's an underlying implication hidden behind that tease?"

Oliver stepped beside her. "I'm done with it—completely. I won't say I'm _over_ it, because it still stings. But I've had some time to think about it and I realize there's no way you would debase yourself like that. You wouldn't be so callous either."

Chloe looked relieved. "No, I wouldn't—and I've thought about it too." She leaned back against the counter, gripping her cup with both hands. "I don't know that I would change how I handled things even though I know I hurt you."

"Chloe it's ok," Oliver interjected.

"No, it's really not." She paused, taking a sip of coffee as she gathered her thoughts. "I questioned our friendship, and I was wrong," she admitted, lifting her gaze to meet his. "I've gotten accustomed to using Clark as my measuring stick, and it's taken me a while to figure out just how unreliable a tool it really is. He hasn't been my best friend for a long time now." She shook her head. "Mostly, I think I've just felt guilty. I needed to atone for my sins, especially the ones against him. I think I've paid enough though." She set aside her coffee and faced him. "But you know what? It's ok to find someone else who fills that void. I can't let Clark's ghost keep haunting me forever. I guess I just didn't want to admit that."

Oliver smiled brightly. For Chloe, that little tangent was akin to a trip to the confessional and he was inordinately pleased she trusted him enough to play priest. "So can we finally exchange those friendship bracelets I bought last week?" he inquired teasingly. "Yours is green."

Chloe laughed, feeling lighter than she had in years. Confession really _was_ good for the soul. "Yea, I was thinking that riding you till three in the morning pretty much accomplished the same thing."

Oliver wrapped his arms around her, squeezing her affectionately. "You're right. Yours is a much better way of affirming friendship." He held her for a few minutes, her head tucked gently underneath his chin. He felt perfectly content, just basking in the moment of calm.

"I'm glad you're my friend Ollie," she whispered.

"Your best friend," he amended.

Oliver suddenly swung her up onto the counter, situating himself between her legs. "You know what? I think we need a break." He'd been considering the idea since yesterday; after she confronted him about moving her stockpile. Metropolis just had too many distractions and unavoidable ways of injecting strife. He was tired of it. "I'm thinking a place with a little privacy; where we're free to engage in plenty of questionable PDA's..." He gripped her hips, kneading them gently. "So what do you say Sidekick? Want to grope me in public?"

Chloe draped her arms over his shoulders, linking her hands behind his neck. Disappearing sounded perfect. In fact, she'd been looking over a brochure at her apartment the other day, wishing she had a reason to visit. She smiled. "I like the way you think, Romeo."

Oliver grinned and kissed her. "Yea, well...everyone could use a little escape."


	7. Chapter 7

It was late by the time Oliver and Chloe made it back to her apartment. They made their way inside, dropping their bags by the door.

"So much for our break," Oliver complained good naturedly as he hung his jacket over a chair.

Chloe followed suit. "I don't know, banshees are nice change of pace actually."

Oliver couldn't help but chuckle. He loved her mind and all its fascinating eccentricities. "Only you Chloe," he teased, opening the refrigerator and taking out a beer.

She glanced at him, a little surprised with his beverage choice. "We feeling a little uncouth this evening?" she asked teasingly. Oliver's tastes were typically much more...refined; not to mention expensive.

"Well you're pickings are slim Sidekick," he answered by way of explanation. He'd noticed some wine but he wasn't in the mood—not after such a harrowing weekend. He watched as Chloe nudged past him to put on a pot of coffee. "You know, you're going to start bleeding caffeine."

She laughed. "That happened years ago, Ollie." She set the coffee to brew and stretched out her neck, sighing. "I think I'll go change; maybe rinse away some of the travel grime," she told him. "I'll be right back, ok?" Oliver nodded and she squeezed his arm as she passed by on her way to the bathroom.

He walked over to the couch and sat down heavily. Their weekend had been an unmitigated disaster—at least, the parts where they weren't naked and _together_. Naked with Clark didn't count. And of course Lois now knowing added a whole new layer of uncomfortable to their already tenuous arrangement. He groaned, remembering the conversation clearly.

* * *

Oliver was just about to head outside when he spotted Lois by the front desk and decided to make his way over. "You ok?" he asked, touching her shoulder gently. She'd been rather shaken up by the whole thing; something Oliver could understand. Possession didn't seem an easy experience to move on from.

"Yea, sure," she replied absently; she was preoccupied with her phone. It took nearly a minute before his question seemed to register and her head shot up, eyes wide and accusatory. "Why? Do you know something? Cause that she demon with the freaky body suck was put down but good—Chloe promised."

Oliver laughed. She always did have a flair for the dramatic. "Lois, relax. I was just inquiring after the well being of a friend; no portent implied."

She let out a relieved sigh. "Oh, ok then." She leaned against the desk casually. "I'm fine, really; just a little freaked out." She met his gaze pointedly. "Lotta bombshells this weekend," she added with a smirk.

Oliver groaned. Discussing Chloe with Clark was bad enough, but discussing her with Lois? Talk about unbearably awkward. "Ah geez," he practically whined. "Are we really having this conversation?"

"Nope, no conversation," she said with an enigmatic grin. "I'm just telling you if you screw up my cuz I'll screw up your pretty boy face. She may be fine with your playboy antics but _I_ think she deserves better." Her expression softened a bit as she continued. "You both do, Ollie."

Oliver couldn't help but smile a bit at her concern. They had managed to become friends despite their rocky past, and he was grateful. "Just so you know, the casual stipulation was by mutual decision and agreement. Even if I wanted things to change she'd fight me tooth and nail." Oliver shook his head ruefully. "The woman's locked up tighter than Fort Knox."

"Of course she is. She's been burned...far worse than you have, Queen." Lois pushed off the desk and grasped his shoulder. "Just...handle her with care, alright?"

He met her gaze unflinchingly. "I got it Lois." And he did—honestly and completely. "She's porcelain," he promised.

* * *

Scrubbing a hand through his hair, he sighed heavily and took a deep pull from his beer. Oliver was well aware how fragile Chloe really was. It still surprised him; the ease in which she settled into such a clandestine relationship. She was jaded, and that saddened him. Chloe deserved the world, and even though he couldn't offer the commitment portion he at least wanted to convey the affection.

He felt like such an ass. Their weekend was supposed to be about showing her how much she was appreciated—and not just for the sex she so amply provided. But somehow it had turned into a forum for his insecurity and jealousy. Thank God they were exclusive. He didn't think he could handle it if Chloe's excursion with Clark turned out to be the real thing.

Which brought him to another point—the fact he was contemplating strings. Miniscule, imperceptible little strings of course, but they were strings nonetheless. He wondered how she'd even gotten him to consider it in the first place. He thought over their convoluted progression: friendship, sex, confusion, exclusive sex, confusion, feelings, confusion, and...strings. Pesky and demanding strings. He took another sip of his beer and leaned his head back against the couch. What the hell was he doing? She'd been right back at the inn; it _was_ a slippery slope—one he'd already started sliding down however unintentionally it may be.

He wasn't sure what to do. How much of it was a blurring of the friendship and sex line he had no idea. He cared for her though, and he absolutely needed her in his life. She wasn't Lois or Tess, and she certainly wasn't a convenient piece of tail he could use to casually get his rocks off and leave. No—she was better, and that fact scared him relentlessly. It had been a long time since he had considered strings; maybe even wanted them, and Chloe was making him rethink all kinds of things. Damn, but she was a bewitching woman. He was practically ashamed at what she'd reduced him to.

Chloe's arrival in sleep shorts and a fitted shirt thankfully interrupted his musings. She poured herself a cup of coffee and joined him on the couch, curling up next to him with a smile. "Our weekend was just full of surprises, wasn't it?"

Oliver set down his beer, stretching his arm out behind her. "I guess." He glanced at her quickly. "Does it bother you then? Them knowing?"

Chloe thought about it. While she wasn't thrilled with the outside input she _was_ pleased the experience afforded Oliver the chance to close his Lois book. She believed him when he said he'd moved on, and for some reason it was important to her he be in the clear emotionally; though she wasn't sure why. She chose her words carefully. "I'm a big girl Ollie, I have a right to live my life the way I see fit."

"Clark's not exactly big on trusting you to make sound interpersonal decisions though," he pointed out. In fact, Clark had a tendency to treat her like an incorrigible child; something he didn't really comprehend.

"No, he's not," she agreed. "I can't blame him though, not with my track record."

"You made one mistake. I doubt that's representative of it all."

Chloe chuckled, taking a sip of her coffee. "In high school I attracted the psychopathic meteor freaks like flies."

"Seriously?" he asked somewhat incredulously. He was surprised. He honestly thought her past would be made up of a handful of guys like Jimmy—or Clark as the case may be.

"Oh, yea," she continued blithely. "Clark usually had to swoop in and save the day. His chat with you was simply a non super powered version of that."

Oliver was hit with a sudden clarity over the dynamics of her relationship with Clark, and he realized then why Chloe spent so much time fighting not to play the victim. She needed to be strong; to prove to Clark she was capable of more than providing accountability through mortality. "Well I'm sure _my_ history doesn't help either," he acknowledged, steering himself back on point. He knew his past was...tarnished, but he was still pissed at the way Clark had automatically assumed the entire affair was his doing; as if he'd somehow duped a blissfully naive and ignorant Chloe into something scandalous.

"No, I can't say it does. But I explained everything to Lois so she should be able to set him straight."

Oliver turned to face her, curious. "Explained _what_ to Lois?"

"That we're covered. She knows it's just an extended fling so she's put the double dates on hold for the time being," Chloe informed him. Despite Oliver's flirtation with responsibility (and apparently monogamy) she had little faith in his willingness to maintain things, and she'd told Lois as much. He wasn't exactly picky about his bed partners, and his only true relationships met with self sabotage. She and Oliver were friends—and he cared, but Chloe wasn't stupid enough to believe in his continued intentions or interest.

"Right," he muttered, unable to stop the trickle of hurt he felt at her seemingly innocuous words—so easy to believe in his callous indifference. "Which is why we delved into the ex factor and committed the cardinal sin of casual flings."

Chloe shrugged. "I don't know—I think we needed to clear the air. Having those two hanging over your head leads to madness," she mused.

"Very true. But that wasn't my point." Oliver braced himself for what he was about to do. He couldn't quite believe it himself. He certainly wasn't ready for full on ropes and cables but he wasn't content with the passive informality anymore. "I don't think things are quite so...simple anymore."

She set down her coffee and looked up at him. "What are you talking about?"

"Do you ever feel like we're playing at forced apathy?" he asked. "Because I do."

"Oliver..."

He gripped her shoulder, sensing her retreat. "We agreed to keep it fun, and it is. But I think we need to set some rules. I'm not saying we should change the status quo or anything, but we need some boundaries."

Chloe practically scoffed. Oliver requesting structured fun? The implication was almost laughable. "You're sounding a bit like me there, hero. You feeling ok?" she hesitantly teased. She wasn't quite sure what to make Oliver's sudden need for affirmation, and it concerned her a bit. She hoped he just felt slighted that she'd been the one to wrench things back to normal while at the inn.

"We already agreed no screwing around on each other," he continued as if she'd never spoken, and Chloe laughed. She was desperate to steer the conversation from Oliver's set psuedo-commitment course.

"Like we'd have time," she joked. "We keep each other pretty busy."

Oliver's grip suddenly grew heavy. He knew what she was doing and he had no intention of letting her get away with deflecting the issue. "You make it too hard Chloe," he softly explained. "You're so determined not to blur the lines that our friendship often gets shoved to the back burner for fear of misinterpretation." With his free hand, he gently caressed her cheek, smiling when she sighed. Oliver was riding high on freeing himself from the ghosts of past relationships and he wanted to enjoy it—with Chloe. But she always made it so damn complicated.

"Didn't we have this conversation at the inn?"

"We did. And you're right; there are no just because gifts." He smiled with his eyes. "But there _are_ I'm glad you're my friend gifts, and thanks for putting up with my shit gifts. There are even I royally fucked up and even though you forgive me I think you deserve more than a few platitudes of apology gifts." He caught her grin with a quirk of his lips. "I can go on if you need me to."

Chloe shook her head, feeling suddenly deflated. "No, I get the picture."

Oliver gripped her other shoulder, forcing her to face him. "I care about you Chloe. Period. End of story. I'm not giving it labels or anything but I'd like to be able to care without rules or guidelines," he stated definitively. "Do you make all your friends sign a waiver?"

Chloe's eyes narrowed menacingly. "I don't _sleep_ with all my friends, Oliver," she pointed out smartly.

He dropped his hands and leaned back, aggravation showing. "God, why are you so caught up in that? It's just sex!"

"Exactly!" she shouted, and he jumped. "And I'm trying to keep it that way!" Now _she_ was getting upset. Oliver seemed determined to railroad her into some sort of declaration and she wanted absolutely no part of it.

Oliver clenched his hair in frustration. "You don't get it. We have strings, Sidekick. We've always had strings. That's what friendship _is_." Though he was starting to think for him it was a little more, and didn't _that_ make him the most pathetic and hypocritical idiot to ever grace Kansas.

Chloe burrowed into the couch, away from him. "I'm just trying to keep things from getting all muddled up. I like where we are Oliver. For the first time in my life I don't feel pressured to be something I'm not; to conform to somebody else's version of me. I don't want to lose that."

Oliver reached out for his near empty beer and finished it. "And I don't want you to Chloe," he acknowledged as he began fiddling with the label. "You needed the release; the freedom, and I'm honored I could help you do that. All I'm saying, is that I want to be allowed the same thing." He set the bottle back on the table. "I want to care how I want, express it how I want, and to be who _I_ am without conforming to people's set perceptions of me. Just like you," he countered.

Chloe sighed. She couldn't fault his logic, and he made a _very _valid point. It was only right she grant him the same privileges she afforded herself. But logic did little to quell her misgivings. She looked up at him, eyes pleading. "I'm afraid if I give you those strings I give you a part of me, and I'm just now feeling whole again," she admitted. It had been a hard road for her, moving on from Jimmy; even longer moving on from Clark. But she'd finally done it, and she couldn't stand to just risk everything...not right now.

"And thank God for that Chloe—really," Oliver told her with overwhelming sincerity. "But I'm not asking for a relationship here; just a teensy, tiny thread...from a sewing kit maybe. I'll even let you pick the color."

Chloe's lips tugged into a smile. He wasn't asking what Jimmy had, nor was he asking for unquestionable loyalty in the face of his misguided yet arrogant martyrdom. He was simply asking...for her. A part of her warmed to the idea; basking in the knowledge that she had Oliver Queen fairly begging for a connection. But the bigger part of her was scared. But, she supposed, in the end it all boiled down to moxie, and she had _that_ in spades. "I guess a little tie wouldn't kill me," she finally relented and Oliver fairly crowed with satisfaction.

He'd cracked the ice queen. A tiny little speck had been plucked from her implacable armor and he was thrilled. He pulled her against him, securing his arm tightly around her shoulders and sighed. "I'm glad for it," he said. "Takes off some of the pressure."

"I can see that." She yawned deeply. "I am _so_ tired," she mumbled sleepily.

Oliver tilted his head to study her closely. She was a bit pale, with faint circles under her eyes. Now that he thought about it she seemed a bit lethargic too, and it wasn't the first time either. He recalled a few incidents over the past months where she'd seemed under the weather. "You sure you're ok?" he questioned softly.

"I've just been feeling a little off lately."

He squeezed her tightly. "Do you think maybe you're getting sick?"

She shrugged noncommittally. "Maybe. It comes and goes though; has been since January."

Close to three months then, he mused silently. "So why don't you see a Dr.?"

Chloe rested her head against his shoulder, nuzzling a bit. "It doesn't seem that serious. I really wouldn't worry about it Ollie. Stress and I go hand in hand, which I'm sure is what part of this is. Honestly, I'm fine."

"If you're sure."

"I am," she stated confidently. "Oh, I forgot to tell you Victor checked in." She sat up, feeling a bit more energetic now that she had information to convey. "He did a little digging and found out the same Dr. treated both Brensen Lask _and_ Annie Rasser."

Oliver's eyebrow shot up. "Well that's ominous."

"It gets better. He had a meeting with LutherCorp representatives about a week before seeing Brensen. He has, or I should say _had_, a fairly dubious record which somehow got wiped clean right before the visit."

"And you think Tess did it," Oliver noted. It made sense. He couldn't think of one thing going on in that company Tess wasn't fully aware of...or behind.

"Probably. His sudden promotion smacks of deviance too."

Oliver smiled when she yawned again, snuggling in deeper to his side. There was nothing to be done about it tonight, he decided, and she obviously needed sleep. He stood up, pulling her with him. "It can wait Chloe," he told her as he tugged her towards the bed.

She didn't offer any resistance as she plodded along after him. "I want to look into it further," she told him, pulling back the covers and sliding in. "But I'll wait," she conceded.

Oliver shut off the lights and stripped down to his boxer briefs before climbing into bed beside her. "That's all I ask," he said before pressing a kiss to her temple and closing his eyes to sleep.


	8. Chapter 8

Sorry for any errors and please bear with me on the slow updates. I've been having some health issues that have gotten in the way of my writing. I also apologize if it's not up to par but I've been preoccupied... Hope you enjoy the latest and I hope to be quicker with the next chapter!

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Oliver woke up alone. He was surprised actually; last night Chloe had been running on empty and he hadn't expected her to rouse until afternoon at the very least. He slipped on his jeans and t-shirt, looking around for any signs of his exhausted blond. The water running in the bathroom provided his clue.

The door opened and Chloe stumbled out, looking decidedly worse than she had last night. He grew immediately worried. "You look awful," he told her.

"Well aren't you charming this morning," Chloe sniped as she mustered a sickly grin. "You must be losing your touch Queen."

Oliver smiled in spite of himself. "You know you're still beautiful Chloe. But are you ok?" he asked, wrapping his arm around her and giving her a squeeze.

She rested her head on his shoulder for a moment, sighing tiredly. "I'm just not feeling well today." Actually, it was a bit worse than usual but that seemed par for the course lately. She wasn't about to mention that to Oliver though.

"I can see that." He dropped a kiss on her temple and walked into the kitchen. He pulled out some bread to make her a piece of toast and watched carefully as she headed straight for the coffee machine. "You know, maybe you should skip the coffee today—give your stomach a rest."

"I'll take my chances," Chloe replied. Regardless of how bad she felt, there was no way she was giving up her caffeine.

"Do you have any plans today?"

Chloe shook her head no. "Nothing in particular. I'll probably stick close to home; take a day of rest or something." The toast popped and Oliver slid it over to her with a wary gaze as she began munching on it thoughtfully.

"Now I _know_ something's wrong. You only rest by force Chloe. I think you should see Dr. Emil."

"Ollie, I'm fine. Honestly. It'll pass like it always does." She finished her toast and with a flourish, took a huge sip of coffee. "See—I'm actually feeling better already. That coffee you warned me off of perked me right up."

Oliver shook his head knowingly. Chloe spent all her time looking after other people, often at the expense of herself. He didn't want her to deny herself into trouble. "I don't like it Chloe. What if something's really wrong?"

"Then I'll handle it. But I'm telling you, I'm fine."

Oliver sighed and busied himself with fixing his own breakfast. Chloe had some eggs, cheese and salsa so he decided to make an omelet. Slim pickings, but he was hungry. He smiled when she set a cup of coffee on the counter in front of him before making her way to the kitchen table and sitting down.

"Any more news on the murders?" he asked curiously as he pulled out a pan.

"No, unfortunately. I want to check on that promotion though. I read Dr. Kratzer's file and he seems like a real piece of work. He was up for disciplinary action by the review board _three_ times but nothing ever came of it."

"And it all revolves around that meeting, I'm guessing." Something was definitely off with LutherCorp's involvement; he just couldn't pinpoint what.

"I wish I could find out who it was with, but they covered their tracks _very_ well. Anyone from LutherCorp is merely listed as a representative."

"Tess is smart, I'll give her that." He folded over the eggs and looked back at her. "I know you're looking for proof here, but I think we already know she did it."

"I just wish I knew _why_. I'm tired of being in the dark on this," she complained petulantly. "It wouldn't hurt to know the extent of her involvement either. Funding is one thing, but torture is a completely different planet." She shuddered unconsciously. Seeing the meta's as broken apart as they were touched a chord inside Chloe she'd long thought buried. It was a troublesome subject for her. She winced suddenly as her head began pounding and she pressed her fingers against her temples in an effort to relieve the pain. "Can you hand me some Tylenol?" she asked Oliver. "It's in the cabinet right next to you."

Oliver frowned and studied her closely, but did as he was told. He turned off the burner and reached for her medicine. "Would you please do it as a favor for me?" he implored quietly.

Chloe glanced up at him peevishly before taking the pills. "You're back to Emil again, aren't you."

"Yes," he replied absolutely. "I told you I'm worried." Oliver went back to the stove, grabbing a fork on his way. He dug into his omelet, foregoing a plate.

"I promise I'll call him if it seems necessary. I won't let myself fall apart. I meant it."

Oliver took a minute before speaking. He trusted Chloe, but he knew she would run herself into the ground before admitting she needed help. But, he did manage to eke out a promise, so he figured it would have to suffice. "Ok. I'll let you handle it—but you have to promise me, Chloe."

She nodded, pleased they'd managed to reach a compromise. "I promise."

"And just so you know, whatever it is—I'll be there for you." He felt the need to make her aware he would share this burden, no matter what it may be. He owed her that much. "I always am you know," he added as an afterthought.

Chloe snorted somewhat genially, and she sat back in her chair with a slight smirk. "I think history speaks differently. I can remember a time not long ago where your only concern was placating your wounded ego. You didn't seem to care much for other peoples pain." She winced at the expression on Oliver's face. She'd meant it as a joke, really—but the minute the words escaped she realized a part of her was still hurting. It was Jimmy all over again, and she dreaded what was coming. She was well aware that even though she'd moved on, she'd never really dealt with things. And truth be told, she didn't particularly want to either.

Oliver set his food aside, no longer hungry. He'd known the topic would come up eventually, he just didn't expect it to be now. "You're talking about Jimmy." Chloe remained silent, though she did undividedly meet his gaze. He scrubbed a hand over his face and rested heavily against the counter. "I knew it was still hanging between us—the whole thing is actually. We've tried to move past it, but I don't think it's working."

Chloe stood quickly, desperate to stifle the conversation. She wanted to pretend a while longer, even though she knew Oliver wasn't apt to let it happen. "I didn't mean to dredge up the past Ollie. My nerves are frayed and I'm pushing the envelope today. Don't pay it any attention—please."

Oliver gazed at her with sympathy. "I wouldn't if I honestly believed that's all it was. But I know you better than that Chloe."

Chloe just stared at him blankly and wondered how best to proceed. She didn't want to give him an opening but she knew she had to offer a morsel of _something_. "Ok. I'll admit there's a part of me that's still angry but it really doesn't need to be addressed. I'll get over it like always." She crossed her fingers and hoped it would be enough to appease him, but his eyes said otherwise.

He pushed away from the counter and moved to stand in front of her. "I don't buy it. I don't think either of us can lock it up in a box and call it pretty on our bookshelves. It changed us—permanently."

Chloe's shoulders dropped in defeat. She should have known Oliver would keep pushing. She sighed heavily and resigned herself to plowing forward with it. Good or bad, they were dealing with this. "Which part then Ollie? Committing homicide or abandoning me?" she questioned harshly.

Oliver felt like he'd been punched. He expected her to be mourning Jimmy, and possibly her own shortcomings in the matter. He hadn't expected a personal attack. "You know how much it affected me Chloe, so don't make light of it, please."

"I'm not. I'm being deathly serious here."

Oliver leaned back against the counter again, gripping the edges tightly; his head bowed. "You know, I always thought you of all people would understand why I did it."

"And I do," Chloe assured him. "But understanding doesn't make it go away. You treated me like the enemy."

Oliver's head snapped up defensively. "Well you kind of acted like one," he snapped. He saw the look on her face and immediately regretted speaking. The last thing he wanted was a fight, especially not on the heels of such a melodramatic weekend. At the same time though, he felt the need to be honest no matter how she might take it. "I'm not trying to start something, I just need you to know what I was feeling. It seemed like you had no problem playing morally gray when it came to your own agenda but the minute _I_ crossed your line it was black and white. I resented you for it," he admitted ruefully.

"And I resented you for playing God. You didn't give me a chance to explain, you just rounded up the team and ran through me. I felt like we'd never been friends at all Ollie; that's how cold you were to me."

"I was angry. I thought you'd turned on us."

Chloe hated how their conversations deteriorated so quickly, but this was one she couldn't back down from no matter how badly she wanted peace. And right now, she was astounded he would actually believe her capable of that, no matter how anarchic the circumstances may have been. It only went to show how poor his faith in her turned out to be. She rounded on him quickly. "But you didn't even try to see Ollie. All you could focus on was what _you_ saw as my failure to fall in line. I _know_ I screwed up, and all I was trying to do was rectify it. I didn't know about Davis and I didn't see his true colors until it was too late; but you didn't bother to see _that_ either."

"It was a screwed up situation," he defended crisply. "You'd been harboring Davis even though you knew he was guilty. It was pretty hard to look past that, regardless of your reasoning."

"I guess it's hard to look past a lot of things. In the end though, you scraped yourself to Jimmy's funeral, but we all know you _hated me_."

His gut churned when he realized the damage he'd put on their relationship; the abject pain he'd caused. He pulled away from the counter and stared at her morosely. "Is that really what you think?" he asked softly; achingly.

Chloe refused to meet his gaze. He made it too hard for her to concentrate. "You made it pretty clear what you thought of me. You didn't even bother to find out why."

"Why what Chloe?"

"Why I did it. I left with Davis because I'd factored myself a suitable loss." She looked up at him then, begging him to see the truth. "If it saved Clark; if it saved _everybody_, then why would it matter?"

"Chloe..." he breathed. "I had no idea." Oliver was absolutely horrified at how expendable she believed herself to be. It was as if she had no idea how important she was in the scheme of the things; how much she meant to people; how much she meant to _him_. She didn't see how bereft he would be if he lost her.

"Of course not; it didn't fit into your agenda to find out. I wasn't deemed important enough, really."

Oliver grabbed her arm, almost as if he wanted to shake some sense into her. "That's not true. I was worried Chloe. About you—I was worried," he stated adamantly.

"Then what happened? Everything went to hell and you looked at me like I was the devil dancing at your feet."

"I couldn't stand to watch it all fall apart, Chloe. I felt like it was my arrogance that ruined things; that I should've just stayed out of it. Seeing you after Jimmy—it was the final straw for me."

Chloe shook her arm free. "Don't. Just don't," she snapped. "I felt so guilty because of you Oliver. So damn guilty. And you just left."

Oliver felt the weight of recrimination settle heavily on his chest and willed her to understand. He was well aware of how badly he screwed things up; how cowardly he seemed. But his actions weren't born out of hatred, and he prayed she could see that. He'd been a shattered man with a stoppered future. "I couldn't stay Chloe," he admitted shamefully. "I had done so much damage to everyone I cared about. And I knew I shouldn't be angry; that I shouldn't blame _you_ especially, but I did. I blamed you because you were broken, and seeing you like that killed me."

She glared at him reproachfully. "So why didn't you say anything? Why couldn't you at least say goodbye?"

"Chloe..."

"I was completely alone, did you know that? You left, the team left, Clark left. Even Lois left eventually, but at least _she_ didn't do it on purpose. Not like you did."

"I honestly thought Clark would still be here."

"And how was that supposed to make a difference?"

"Because I thought you would be taken care of!" Oliver sighed and stepped forward, gently resting his hand on her shoulder. "You're my friend, Chloe. No matter how pointless I was feeling I _never_ intended for you to be alone."

Chloe laughed sardonically. "Well you know what they say about intentions."

"I'm sorry. I hit self destruct and I had no idea how to come back from that. Not until you anyway."

Chloe's eyes met his and he was horrified to see them fill with tears. "I needed you Ollie; I needed _someone_. It was so bad." She blew out a shaky breath before continuing. "I couldn't stop playing it over and over in my head—seeing Jimmy. It was never supposed to end that way. He was never supposed to die and it was my fault completely." It felt like a knot had settled at the base of her throat, wringing out all of her pain and heartache in an anguished cry. She slumped forward, letting Oliver hold her closely as she cried.

"Oh Chloe." His heart broke for her. He had no idea the extent in which she blamed herself. He'd expected a moderate amount of guilt, but nothing like the self castigation she was feeling now. "We all played our part," he comforted. "For better or worse, we lived it—and I'm sorry Chloe. I'm truly sorry."

Chloe sniffled and burrowed closer to him. It felt nice to seek comfort; something she realized she hadn't allowed herself in a long, long time. "So am I," she murmured quietly. "I know you were hurting too."

"But you were there for me. I just wish I could say the same."

Chloe lifted her head slightly, eyes still shining. "But you're here for me now, right? And that won't be changing?"

"Absolutely," he assured. "I'll be whatever you need, Chloe. I mean that." There was no way he would screw it up this time. Chloe had forgiven him and in turn, he could now begin to forgive himself. His days of guilt laden tantruming were over, and he was determined to prove it.

"Could you be my best friend?" she pleaded softly; almost pitifully, and his heart lurched for her. "I really, really need one today."

Oliver simply squeezed her tightly, breathing in the scent of her everything. "I'll be your friend forever Chloe. I'm here this time," he promised resolutely. "I'm here."

* * *

A/N: I really felt the need to resolve things with Jimmy and the Doomsday debacle before the two of them could really progress. I always envisioned the experience a catalyst for each of them.


	9. Chapter 9

Just to let you know I won't be updating next week as I'll be on vacation. Hope this will suffice in the meantime. I know it's a bit short, but there have been too many things going on in real life I've had to deal with lately. Once more I apologize for any errors. Also, thanks for all the reviews and support! They really help keep me going in more ways than you realize!

* * *

They'd headed into Watchtower after meeting on the street, and for the rest of the evening successfully managed to block out reality in a tangle of limbs and incalescence.

"I'm thirsty," Chloe announced, grabbing his shirt and sliding it on as she padded over to the kitchen. "Want anything?"

Oliver pulled on his boxers and flopped back down on the couch. "Just some water." He ran a hand through his hair, smirking when it came away wet. Chloe had been nothing short of ferocious, and he hadn't fared much better. He knew she'd be washing his handprints off for a week. And it wasn't his fault really, she just so very...bendy and enthusiastic. He didn't think he'd ever be able to look at the coffee table in quite the same way again, or her desk for that matter.

Chloe came back and handed him a bottled water before nestling against his side. He twisted the cap off and swallowed some of it down quickly, his thoughts not surprisingly turning to a more somber note. Their evening hadn't all been fun and games. "I was serious about you scaring the life out of me—you know that right?"

"Consider it payback. I think I about drove Clark crazy with my antiquated angst." She took a few sips of her own drink then set it aside. At first, her simulated best friend had seemed slightly put off by her concern and care for the brassy billionaire. She hadn't missed the expression on his face when Oliver pushed through the Watchtower doors and Chloe immediately rushed to his side. She had been so relieved. The only thing she could focus on was her facile desire to simply be with him, in any context. "When I saw they had you..." she breathed.

"It's a good thing I'm harder to get rid of than an infestation of bed bugs," he groused playfully. He pulled her to him a bit more closely, feeling her concern.

"Mm-hmm," she acknowledged. "But I _like _you in my bed," she added teasingly.

Oliver grinned. "The feeling's definitely mutual. But seriously, with you out in the field Chloe, it's different."

She nodded succinctly. She wasn't offended, as she knew he was in no way questioning her abilities. She talked a good game, teasing him about playing hero on the outside, but she agreed she was best used in her ivory Watchtower, playing puppet master to their strings. "I know, and I'll be the first to admit I was terrified." She tilted her head to assess him. "You know, the last thing I thought of was you? It was chaos really, and all I could focus on right before he pulled the trigger was your face. It surprised me."

Oliver couldn't help but smile briefly. He liked the idea of being indelibly important to her, but the thought of her getting shot point blank rattled his bones completely. Seeing her after his 'chat' with Tess had filled him with an indescribable happiness and warmth he wanted to revel in, in its entirety. He remembered Chloe's playful words clearly: "You better be careful Ollie, I'm gonna start to think you're fallin for me." He shook his head ruefully. It was too late for that really. Thinking was ineffective; the conviction was absolute. He'd fallen completely.

When the thought pierced his consciousness that he may not see her again, he'd been gripped with an agonizing defeat. He realized then that for him there was no maybe—her abduction was his catalyst into strings. He wanted them, and he was stunned stupid by the thought. Even his strings for Lois had been conditional, and he'd believed himself in love with _her_. But the more he thought about it, the more he came to understand he'd been in love with the _idea_ of her.

"Well for once I'm glad Boyscout pulled his lone ranger routine," he admitted. "Tess showed up at my office playing the disputable damsel in distress, and when she told me Watchtower had been taken...I just froze Chloe." He tilted his water bottle back, gulping some more down before placing it on the coffee table.

Chloe glanced at up at him and smiled. "You handled it well I think. Like I said earlier, thanks for pulling the switch."

"Well I had to do _something_." He leaned back a bit. "Similarly, Clark surprised me. He went full throttle trying to find you."

"Did he?"

Oliver peered at her thoughtfully. "You seem surprised."

Chloe sighed, her head resting heavily on his chest. She could hear him breathing, and the steady thrum of his heartbeat as he relaxed against the cushions. "We talked," she admitted. "After he rescued me. We buried some things. I think on some level he was finally able to see just how far we've fallen; that there's too much water under the bridge to build over."

Oliver nodded. In his opinion _that_ confrontation was definitely a long time coming. Clark played his role with critical aplomb, but everyone knew his relationship with Chloe had irrevocably twisted. It now resembled a fractured parody. Oliver was glad the two managed to resolve some things—he only hoped it was enough to see them through the turmoil to come. "But you figured it out," he prodded. "You seemed fairly happy when I caught up with you tonight."

"Things are better, but they're nowhere near fixed. I don't know if it ever will be."

Oliver's arms tightened around her soothingly. "I'm sorry Chloe, I know how much your friendship with Clark means."

"It's almost defined me in some ways. Coming out from his shadow feels good though—almost cathartic."

"Well you deserve it. I respect Clark, but we both know I have some caustic issues with the guy." He gazed at her wonderingly. "Lately they seem to revolve around you though."

"Gee, I wonder why," she teased, poking him lightly in the ribs.

Oliver laughed and gripped her fingers tightly, pulling her arm around his waist. "Maybe you can push it back now. You can define yourself from here on out."

"I like the idea of that. Speaking of defining things, did you catch up with Tess?"

"I did. She feels guilty and is apparently going underground. There's only one way out of Checkmate so she's turning red headed tail and shrinking." Running wasn't like his borderline sociopathic ex, but saving her own ass was. In a way he wasn't surprised to hear of her plans to go AWOL—thought he did assume she'd simply be biding her time until she could properly take revenge. He could only hope that when the time came his team and those he cared about weren't caught in the crossfire. His warning was sincere. He had no qualms exposing her for what she had truly become.

"You know I don't agree with her choices by any means, but I guess I can see where she'd be pulled in by their ideals," Chloe mused. "They threw a good pitch from what I understand."

"Well they believe in their own stupidity—but I always thought she was smarter than that." He couldn't help but wonder how much of it had to do with Tess's fascination with Lex's research. Which brought him to yet another uncomfortable subject he would have to broach with Chloe, and he wasn't looking forward to it. Lex scarred her for life, so much so that Oliver was aware of the hidden facet inside her that rejoiced in her enemies demise. She'd never admit it, but Oliver caught it often in the shadowed glint of her eye.

"Philanthropy and bitterness make for a dangerous combination Ollie. I have no doubt they used it to get to her.

"So how much do you think they know?"

Chloe frowned and pulled away slightly. "As much as she does, I guess; which admittedly isn't much. She didn't know who _you_ were until tonight, and all Waller had were code names."

"And Clark?" Oliver asked, reaching for his water again. He finished it quickly.

"I don't know. Tess has a sense of responsibility where he's concerned, maybe even a little hero worship. It's strange, but I'd bet money they're clueless about his true heritage."

"I've noticed it too. It's a warped sense of loyalty but it's there." It was also a loyalty he had trouble understanding. Tess could double cross anybody—even the Pope—regardless of history or affiliation, but Clark seemed safely ensconced in her protection. It was a hard concept to fathom with Tess, whose sole aim was in protecting _herself_.

"And we should use it," Chloe stated. "Tess won't stay underground for long, it's not in her nature. We both know she'll find a way back. And she's still dabbling with Zod. If it comes down to it, maybe we can push her in Clark's direction—play on her fixation a little."

"I'll admit she _is_ spreading herself a little thin these days. Clark, Zod, Checkmate...I'm surprised she had time to play false."

Chloe grinned in spite of herself. "Funny, considering she's worse than a politician. But I don't have much faith in her show at being contrite despite her apologies and decision to go under. She'll still be in the thick of things."

"With Zod no doubt," Oliver agreed.

Chloe sighed and sat forward, glancing at him with worry. "There are too many balls in the air Ollie, and I don't like it. Something's going to crack soon."

"You're right," he conceded. "But let's deal with it tomorrow." He grinned at her rakishly before sliding his hands underneath the shirt she was wearing. He was done with drama for the night, and she acquiesced easily. "We've been through enough today and I for one am nowhere near done reaffirming my existence through sex," he announced playfully as he pulled off her shirt.

Chloe laughed. "It's a good thing I grabbed that water then," she teased, letting him pull her backwards on the couch.


	10. Chapter 10

Sorry about the lag in updates, it's been a busy time with the kids going back to school! As usual, I'm sorry for any errors...

John stood stoically in front of her; his ever present leather jacket fitted surely over squared shoulders and a hard yet sympathetic glint to his eye. "When I was at Checkmate, I came across two names I believe you would be interested in. Mark and Laura Silton."

Chloe studied him carefully. "Are they meta's?" she inquired, peeling off her suit jacket and laying it over her chair.

"Yes. I did not stay to find out what their capabilities were, but I have complete confidence you will be able to do so."

Chloe smiled at her alien friend. His faith in her was a much need buoy in her troubled awareness. "Thanks John."

He seemed to grasp her hidden inference and returned her smile affably. "Perhaps they will provide some of the answers you seek."

"So who clued you in?"

"It was Oliver. He told me these murders were disturbing you Chloe."

She sat down, crossing her legs demurely despite the inadvertently suggestive nature of the skirt she was wearing. "I think they'd disturb anyone. I just can't understand how someone could do this."

John sighed, his expression distressed. "Much like Checkmate and the measures they will employ to achieve their goals," he noted. "I find I cannot abide by either."

Just then Watchtower's double doors burst open and Oliver strode in, dressed impeccably in his work suit. "Hey!" he greeted, grinning cheekily as he stared at Chloe's legs. She ignored him valiantly. "Thank you for coming by John. I'll look into this immediately."

John place a hand on her shoulder, patting it lightly. "Please let me know if I can help. I must admit, these murders disturb me as well."

"Thanks John. I promise I'll keep you in the loop."

With a rapid gust of air the Martian Manhunter disappeared. Oliver sat on the edge of her desk and not so discreetly peered down her green blouse.

"Will you stop that?" she admonished.

"Sorry," he offered, though he didn't sound the least bit contrite. Last night had been mind numbingly liberating and he was anxious for a continuation. Minus the near death experiences of course. "So did you two have a nice chat?"

"He gave me a couple names to check out. Apparently they're on Checkmates radar."

"Well have a look then Professor."

Chloe nudged him off her desk and stood up, moving over to one of the monitors. She typed in a query and garnered immediate results. "Mark and Laura Silton, ages 26 and 24 respectively." She peered at the screen thoughtfully. "Talk about the coincidence of the century."

"What is it?" Oliver asked as he looked over her shoulder.

"Guess who was in the same therapy group at Belle Reve?"

"You've got to be kidding," he groaned. He was getting tired of the dramatic revelations.

"Laura was released in December, but Mark is still there," she noted.

"Wasn't Brensen Lask released then too?" he asked, and Chloe answered in the affirmative. Something about the timing set off his radar for bullshit. Chloe had already pondered the implications of Brensen's death coinciding with the destruction of the solar towers, and he now wondered if it could be possible the victims were released systematically. He was convinced someone was orchestrating the entire thing; the only question was who. "Can you delve into the group; find out their purpose?"

Chloe nodded and set to work. "Dr. Fisher was the psychiatrist, both for individual and group sessions. It was cited as a research endeavor. The group was formed in early December with four members—and guess who rounded it out?"

Oliver moved back over to her desk, again perching on the edge. "Our third headcase, Annie Rasser."

"Bingo."

"Those meta's were put together deliberately," he surmised. "Doesn't it strike you as odd the group came into play right around the time Tess squirmed into the merger with Zod and company?"

Chloe arched her neck thoughtfully. "Let me check something." Her hands flew over the keys; eyes darting across the screen as she searched for information. "If Dr. Kratzer is on Tess's payroll it would stand to reason... There it is. Dr. Fisher was put on LutherCorp's books right before the names were picked."

Oliver shrugged off his jacket and loosened his tie. "Sounds like our resident red headed terror to me."

"But we still don't know _why_. Zod has no reason to go after the meta's. If anything, you'd think he felt some sort of affinity." Zod certainly had the megalomania complex, and if you weren't enhanced in some way you weren't fit to shine his dog tags; Tess being the only exception to date. "That leaves Tess as the mastermind."

"This seems out of her realm of chaos though. It doesn't make sense." Tess was many things, but a stark raving lunatic wasn't one of them. He just couldn't see her as H.H. Holmes with the meta's.

"Nothing does lately," Chloe said and swung around to face him.

"Either way, we have to assume she and Zod are on equal footing. She saw the future and she knows Zod's part in it," Oliver reminded her.

"I just can't believe she'd side with him after everything that's happened," she huffed, coming to rest by his side.

"She's ensuring bragging rights. Right now, Zod's the winning party, and right or wrong it's who she'll spread her legs for."

"I guess she has proven it lately." It was no secret Tess had warmed her bed with the psychotic alien, and both she and Oliver were more than a little disgusted by it.

For Oliver though, understanding that his own choices in the past were at times reprehensible did little to abate his sense of righteous indignation. Apart from Tess he'd never crossed the line she so easily blundered over. Zod was as sick a choice as Lex would have been, and he wasn't sure he could forgive her this. He wasn't sure he could forgive her a lot of things at this point.

"I'm sorry you know," he said suddenly, pulling her to him gently. "About Tess I mean. Self destructive or not, I was stupid to pursue it." Chloe rested her head on his shoulder and silently let him continue. She could tell he needed to get this off his chest. "I knew it was over; that getting her in bed was like taming the proverbial shrew, but I took the challenge anyway. I'm a shit, I know."

"Yes, I do," she teased. "I also know it was like trying to talk a dog down off a meat wagon—utterly useless. But we've been over this Ollie and it's ok. You're not thinking with your lesser half anymore." In fact, she'd completely made peace with his past relationships. It was strange, actually communicating with Oliver; it was painful at times too. But discussing his past allowed her the closure she needed to engage in the their surprisingly advantageous arrangement.

He leered down at her. "I don't know about _that_. You in those little skirts of yours tend to render me senseless."

She pushed him away playfully. He was in quite the mood today. "Enough with the sweet talk Romeo, we've got murders to figure out."

"Very true," he conceded. "But still, thank you for understanding Chloe, _and_ for letting me sweep it under the rug when I couldn't face it." Confronting Tess at the cafe had gone a long way into tying up loose ends for him. While it was true he'd meant what he said to Tess last night; about sometimes wishing they could go back, he hadn't meant it in the way his ex had most likely interpreted it. Even if they were back on that island, secluded and wrought with ideals, and even if she _was_ that girl again—he was finished. It wouldn't make a difference now anyway. He was done with anyone but Chloe, even though his little blond companion remained clueless.

Chloe smiled and squeezed his hand gently before pushing away from her desk and heading into the kitchen. They needed to get back on track. "Alright. So we have three murders with the same mo and a few common denominators," she recapped as she poured herself a cup of coffee. "LutherCorp is heavily involved and we can safely assume Tess is as well."

"What about Zod?" Oliver asked. "Do you think he's playing in the sandbox?"

She stirred in some creamer thoughtfully. "I wouldn't put it past him. I know I said it would make more sense for him to have a soft spot for the meta's, but Zod's generosity tends to be tied to personal gain. Maybe his greed won out."

"It's definitely a possibility. What about powers though? Maybe they can give us some insight, because right now we're flying blind."

"Well we already know Brensen, Barry and Annie's."

"That's true." Oliver meandered into the kitchen himself, pulling a bottled water out of the fridge. "Hey, can you find anything on the LutherCorp front?"

"I can try," Chloe agreed before settling back at her desk to diligently research their nemesis. A few minutes later she muttered an obscenity and Oliver headed over, intrigued.

He leaned down, resting his hand on the desk beside her. "Have some luck?"

"It's not exactly pay dirt but the money came out of the R&D Department at LutherCorp. Tess has oversight and final authorization goes through her. She may not have signed anything but she knew about it, that's for sure."

"Well it's more than we had earlier."

"Take a look at this," she requested of Oliver, easily switching focus to the meta's as she pulled up their individual files. She couldn't help the spike of disjointed excitement that flitted down her spine. She was admittedly curious as to their powers. Something about them—and the previous three victims—set off her need for understanding. It scared her; how she believed herself entirely capable of empathizing with a group of people deemed criminally insane. It was a fact she refused to ruminate on at the moment. She pulled up a screen and they took a look at Mark Silton. He was abominably morose: pasty complexion, lank brown hair and empty eyes.

"Invisibility at will," Oliver read. "Not a bad gift to have."

"You're telling me. I could have used that a time or two in high school."

"And his sister?"

Chloe pulled up the next file. Laura looked remarkably similar to her brother, but appeared in better health; or spirits as the case may be. "Power sensing. She can generalize the type of ability and she has photographic memory. Once she sees her target she can pick them out anywhere." She paused for a moment, the inchoate thoughts soaring through her head at breakneck speed. It was there, she just couldn't grasp it yet. "You know, you have to wonder..."

Oliver turned his face towards hers. "What?"

"I can't put my finger on it, but there's some sort of connection in their powers. Like there's a reason for it."

Oliver shuddered softly; her interpretation amazingly on a par with his own. It left him rather discomfited. "I feel the same thing, but I'll be damned if I can figure it out." He stood up, placing his hand on her shoulder reassuringly. "We have more than we hoped for yesterday though. It's a starting point, and that's what counts."

"I know." Chloe sat back, wrapping her arms around herself as if chilled. She was filled with such a sense of dread; she just couldn't shake it. "I just have a really bad feeling about this."

Oliver's grip tightened. He was hesitant to ascribe to superstition or ominous meanings, but he couldn't deny the dead weight in the pit of his stomach at the thought of all this. He shook his head ruefully. "Me too Chloe, me too."


	11. Chapter 11

Sorry for the lag in updating. My youngest son broke his arm (he was kept overnight in the hospital and the next day they put him under to set and cast it) and I've been dealing with that the past couple weeks, not to mention I seem to have caught a nasty cold. Again I apologize for any errors and I hope this chapter's up to snuff. I felt like writing a bit more about their progression as a couple so...it mainly focuses on that. FYI, I'm thinking of updating the summary and am looking for ideas on what to incorporate. Thanks again for the support and reviews!

* * *

"Late night?" Oliver asked as he breezed into the Watchtower. He'd been in meetings all day and was looking forward to spending time with his favorite distraction.

Chloe was puttering around her desk when she looked up. "I guess," she replied. "It's been a busy day."

He settled beside her with an acerbic grin. "Tell me about it," he commiserated, dropping a hand on her shoulder and squeezing gently. He noticed her sudden wince. "You ok?"

Chloe smiled congenially. "It's just a bruise. I'm fine." Her shoulder _was_ a bit sore, but it was nothing that wouldn't fade within a few days.

Oliver studied her intently. Looking around, he noticed the acrid scent of a lemon based cleanser and a gleaming Watchtower wall. He wondered what was going on. She hadn't said anything, but he knew her well enough to see through her attempts at being pleasantly evasive. "What the hell happened Chloe?" he demanded.

She sighed resignedly. The last thing she wanted was to hash it out with Oliver. She knew he'd overreact, even if it was within reason. "Clark came by," she reluctantly admitted. "I didn't notice at first but...he was hyped up on red K."

Oliver's reaction was immediate. "Did he say something? Do something?" He questioned as he fussed over her like a mother hen. He may not have firsthand experience with Clark's rebellious alter ego but he'd heard plenty of stories, and none of them involved skipping through the cornfield picking daisies.

Chloe brushed him off. "He found out about the weapons. He thought it was Tess at first, but I told him they were mine. He was...suitably angry."

"Chloe..." He knew she wasn't telling him everything, and his imagination was in overdrive coming up with scenarios in which he'd likely need to plot an improbable murder.

"I already cleaned it up, but he burned the wall. His symbol," she explained, deliberately avoiding his gaze.

"There's something you're not telling me Chloe. Just spit it out already."

She knew he'd have an absolute fit, but she'd promised herself that after their discordant scene of what she considered honorable dishonesty, she wouldn't keep things from him again. "He just knocked me down Ollie. It was nothing—really."

He was silent for all of two seconds before his face flushed red and his insides set to boiling. "He did what?"

His tone was muted; grave, and Chloe knew he was barely holding himself in check. Oliver was a volatile character on his best days, and he was _not_ someone you wanted to push.

Oliver clenched his fists; taking a few deep breaths as he tried to calm down. He was seething. He felt justified horror at someone so irrefutably strong setting their sights on harming Chloe, but he also felt as if he were face to face with her vulnerability in ways he'd never let himself acknowledge before. Shocked with the force of his emotions, he couldn't help the stray thought that maybe, it affected him so differently because his _feelings_ were different. They were stronger. "Son of a bitch. If I see him..."

Chloe stood up, grasping his biceps in an attempt to pacify him. "No cramming kryptonite up his inglorious ass Oliver, it's been taken care of."

He scoffed at her. "What, did he offer a few insincere platitudes and promise to play the dogged companion again? He _hurt_ you Chloe." Oliver was well aware his reaction was over the top, but he couldn't seem to stem the onslaught. It was a sick and foreign feeling. Even when Lois had been attacked by his former mentor, he'd failed to muster the vitality he was displaying now. He stopped for a minute, allowing the emotions to wash over him.

It quickly became obvious he was at a crossroads. He knew with solemn certainty, there was a real possibility he was in love with her. He shook visibly. He had no idea how to deal with this. Caring was one thing, but to contemplate forever simply wasn't in the cards right now. He schooled his expression and readjusted his mindset, smiling grimly. He needed to put the chaos aside and focus on the issue at hand. "I don't care what he said," Oliver all but snapped. "He can be as sorry as Lionel Luthor, but it doesn't change the fact that he hurt you. It's wrong Chloe, so please don't ask me to write it off."

Chloe sighed and stepped back. On the one hand she was loathe to cater to his arrogance, but on the other she was filled with an odd sort of happiness he was so fiercely protective and attending. It felt strange. Having him so close made her feel inexplicably safe. Even though things were somewhat resolved with her errant best friend, she noticed how she'd slowly begun to revel in a sense of security with Oliver she never would have expected; not from someone like him.

"I wouldn't do that Oliver. I know what he did was wrong, but we talked. He apologized." She perched on the edge of her desk, peering up at him. Oliver was still angry, but looked less inclined to kill something so she continued; relieved. "I guess I never realized how hard it's been. He feels so alienated."

Oliver's eyes narrowed; verging on an outright glare. "That's no excuse," he grated.

Chloe smiled sadly. "I'm well aware of that, and I'm _not_ saying that makes it ok. I just...have more of an understanding I guess."

"You shouldn't _have_ to understand Chloe. I know things have been tense between you two, and everybody's made mistakes. But he put his hands on you Chloe. It just...I don't think I can handle you being hurt like that." He ran his hands roughly through his hair and started pacing. "Checkmate was bad enough, and now...I just can't."

Chloe watched him struggle, and the depth of his feelings somehow managed to penetrate her iron clad defenses for once. For a moment, she basked in it; basked in the novelty of someone caring about her above all others. But then it hit her—the implications of what it could mean, and she suddenly felt like she couldn't breathe.

Oliver stopped, arching an eyebrow at her in question and she smiled tightly, desperate to keep her thoughts personal—at least until she understood it all. She'd never felt this way with Clark, even when her unrequited feelings were at their most potent. She blew out an agonized breath, berating herself for allowing this to happen. It hadn't even been a year since Jimmy died, and here she was aching over another man. Over Oliver.

The man in question stepped forward, reaching out a tentative hand. "Chloe, what's wrong? You look like you're about to pass out."

She recoiled quickly, ignoring his dejected expression and made her decision quickly. It may have been rash, but she felt like she didn't have a choice. "I don't know if I can do this anymore," she blurted out.

Oliver paused. "Do what, Chloe?"

She abruptly stood and turned away from him. "You make me feel...protected, and you shouldn't," she said, head hanging low. "That was always Clark's job, and it was ok because it was safe." She chanced a quick glance over her shoulder. He was still staring at her, though he was obviously concerned now. She shook her head and dropped her gaze to the floor. "I knew Oliver. I _knew_ Clark would never feel the same and even though it hurt like hell I could take some measure of comfort knowing I'd never be shattered. He couldn't shatter me if he didn't love me."

Oliver was justifiably confused, and he moved to stand behind her. He placed a hand at the small of her back and began rubbing small circles in comfort. "I'm not following you Chloe."

Her shoulders hunched as her eyes slid shut in preparation; the tears forming rapidly despite her best efforts. "You're just not safe anymore," she declared.

It slammed into him with the force of a sledgehammer exactly what she was trying to do, and he scrambled to stop her. "Don't do this," he pleaded.

She spun around, nearly knocking him backwards. She was near frantic now. "I can't help it! You asked for exclusivity and I agreed, you asked for honesty and I promised to try, you asked for a tie and I gave it. But these are strings Oliver, honest to God and freakishly strong _strings_ and I can't do it!"

Her hands were flailing, her chest was heaving, and her face was marred a heated red. Oliver gripped her shoulders. He knew it then; knew she in no way wanted to end their relationship. She was just feeling cornered; exposed, and for a person with Chloe's intimacy issues the situation had quickly turned intolerable.

"Calm down sweetheart, just calm down," he soothed. He pulled her to him despite her feeble attempts at escape. "I get it Chloe, I do. Jimmy and Clark are done; they're completely put to rest. You're free to move on and it scares the shit out of you, because _somewhere_ you want to, and _somewhere_ you know it's more real than it ever was with them."

She pushed against him, but he held firm. "I don't want it to be real! I don't want you to love me!"

He chuckled a bit. The poor girl was damn near apoplectic. "I never said I do Chloe, so stop freaking out about hypotheticals here." He looked down at her, pleased when she met his gaze with an irksome one of her own. He maneuvered them over the couch. "I'm just saying that what you feel for me is a hell of a lot more realistic than anything you had with Clark or Jimmy," he explained as he sat down and pulled her into his lap. "Clark was never a real option, and Jimmy...Jimmy was your crutch. You loved each of them and I'd never try to make light of that, but being with me opens up possibilities that weren't there before. I can understand how frightening that is." He chuckled again, recalling his own epiphanies that left him shaking in a cold sweat. "I can't say I haven't freaked out myself," he admitted.

She was startled by his revelation, her expression a mix of incredulity and wonder. "You have? But you always seem so confident. You tossed Tess and railroaded Lois like it was your job." She pulled back to look at him, catching his chagrin. "It's always been so easy for you. Cut and run, it's as simple as that."

"But it's not," he countered. "I got rid of Lois the easiest way I knew how, all because I cared a little bit too much. And Lois? I knew we might have had a future but I walked away because other things were more important." He slid her around so she was straddling his lap. He wanted a tangible connection when he continued. "Then I grew up. Now, I don't need to sabotage this because I'm scared, I can talk to you instead. And the things that I put before Lois _you_ already know, and you hold them as important as I do. So it's not simple anymore. I'm scared, just like you. But I don't want to lose what we have just because it has the potential to be more."

Her eyes widened comically. "You really think it has potential?"

He shrugged. "Who knows Chloe? I try not to look too far ahead. But right now, I'm happy, and I'd like you to be happy too."

She tilted her head, pondering his observations. "You said my love for them was safe, and you're right, it was. But, I'm not ready to feel even _that_ again."

"No one's asking you to fall in love Chlo. But we've been over this, and it _is_ ok to feel."

She sighed heavily, knowing he was right. "I'm just...I'm afraid if I fall, you'll catch me."

He looked her in the eye, willing her to understand and to acquiesce. "Then let me Chloe, let me take care of you."

She was silent for a few minutes, and he didn't push; simply held onto her and waited. "I can't do anything resembling love right now," she said after a while, and he tensed, afraid she was easing her way into leaving. "But I _can_ do feelings. I can do caring."

He smiled at her beautifully; utterly relieved she was willing to trust him. "That's all I'm asking for Chloe. You won't be sorry, I promise."

"You know Oliver, for some reason I actually believe you."

He laughed freely, and she joined him. He knew they had a lot to work through, both on their own and with each other. But for the first time in as long as he could remember, he felt hopeful. He felt free.


	12. Chapter 12

As usual, I apologize for any errors. Hope you enjoy!

* * *

Things seemed to have settled down since Chloe's strident meltdown, and for that Oliver was thankful. It was nice being on an even keel again. He spent last night with her at Watchtower, but was forced to head out early for an excess of painfully mundane meetings while she scurried around getting ready for the day. He decided to drop by around lunchtime in hopes of working over some of their theories regarding the meta infliction, but he was having a hard time staying focused. His mind kept inconveniently wandering to sex.

Chloe was leaning against her desk, ankles crossed demurely as she skimmed through a folder. He chuckled at the juxtaposition: tight pencil skirt with a ridiculously high slit, scarcely appropriate low cut blouse and enticingly high heels giving the illusion of a decency he knew she'd lately held inappreciable at best.

She glanced up at him and smiled. "So I've been looking over the files and finally came across something worthwhile. With the R&D Dept. funding them I've finally managed to catch a paper trail." She turned and leaned down to grab the documents from the bottom drawer.

Oliver stared shamelessly and smirked. He couldn't help it. He flashed back to last night—when Chloe was breathing hard as he bent her over the couch, her skirt bunched up around her hips as she begged him for more.

"Oliver, are you even listening to me?"

He shook his head, clearing away the brazen image. "Sorry," he offered impishly as she eyed him with a quizzical expression. "What were you saying?"

"Martin Wearson signed off on a project spearheaded by Dr. Kratzer, which proves Tess knows what's going on," Chloe informed him, shoving the folders into his hand. "She's still underground, but it won't last long. We were right you know, she's still working with Zod. She knew he had his powers back.

Oliver skimmed through the pages. Sure enough, Martin's signature was signed on the dotted line along with his department and title—Director of Biomedical Research. "How much do you want to bet she helped him find a way?" he suggested.

Chloe folded her arms across her chest in a gesture of frustration and self comfort. "She had labs Oliver. She said she'd been running experiments on kryptonite."

"Do we know if that's it?" He asked suspiciously, watching as Chloe snagged some aspirin off her desk and washed them down with a bit of coffee. Her headaches were becoming more frequent, but that seemed to be her only symptom as of late so he brushed it off with a latent concern.

"No," she answered. "But it feels a bit too familiar, doesn't it?" Chloe had thought Lex and his labs were a thing of the past. The possibility they could be resurrected made her feel sick with burden. She felt personally affronted the atrocities committed within 33.1 could occur again. "You know, I'm glad Brainiac wiped out my powers," she admitted rather morosely. "God only knows what she'd do if she saw me as an asset."

Oliver glanced up at her. He hated the thought of her strapped down to a table somewhere as someone's inconsequential guinea pig. He wanted her safe–with him, and Tess seemed determined to thwart his newfound cast at happiness. "It's like Lex all over again," he groused as he leaned against her desk. Chloe joined him. "She may have shut down the lab and helped the meta's escape, but knowing Tess she could easily have been covering her ass in order to move on to something more corrupt."

"She's got to be using them for something else," Chloe contemplated with a diminutive tilt of her head. "Tess wouldn't stop at mediocre experimentation."

"I have a gut feeling it's got something to do with the meta's."

"You really think Tess is using the labs to kill them?"

Oliver tossed the folder aside. "At this point, I honestly don't know. I've said before it doesn't mesh with her skewed idealism, ruthless as it may be. But as she morphs into this watered down version of the Luthors, the more I think...maybe. And Zod knows about them too—he has to."

"Why?"

"Because she knew about his powers; they're working together, sleeping together, plotting world domination together..."

"If they gather the rest of Zod's dysfunctional little family they'll be a regular Brady Bunch, only slightly more homicidal."

* * *

An hour later found Chloe and Oliver sitting on the couch; papers strewn across the coffee table and half eaten Chinese takeout containers littered throughout. Oliver's suit jacket had long since disappeared and his tie had joined Chloe's shoes on the floor.

"My best guess is the labs are being used to dig into the meta's. I'm not sure what they're hoping to gain or find out, but it seems pretty damn specific," Chloe said.

"Oliver scratched his head. "I know. Three victims with their heads sawed open and Tess funding underground labs—there's definitely a connection. At some point it'll make itself clear, I just hope it's not too late."

Chloe tucked her legs underneath her. "You know, I'm worried about the team. So far, all the meta's targeted have been damn powerful, and our guys easily fit the bill." It was a concern she'd cultivated since day one. The league was more than a judiciary means to an end; they were family, and Chloe was terrified of losing them—even Dinah, despite their initial animosity. She knew Oliver felt the same.

"At the very least, we need to warn them; bring them up to speed a bit," he suggested.

"Anything to keep them protected I guess. But I don't want them taking this on as a personal crusade. We don't know enough yet."

Oliver had been thinking the same thing. The team had a tendency to well-intentionally run amuck—much like himself—and he didn't want them hurt in the process. "I'll handle it," he assured her. "They can be hard to wrangle, but they'll listen." Playing leader to a misanthropic group of heroes was like trying to keep frogs on a dish—impossible. They each held a fairly egocentric agenda, despite their striving for the greater good. But the responsibility wasn't without its rewards.

"Good." She turned to face him. There was a topic she needed to broach with him, and it was something he was sure to balk at, even if it _was_ a necessary evil. "So I've been thinking..."

Oliver paused, his hackles immediately raised. "Which usually equates to you doing something incredibly dangerous yet useful. So what's up?"

Chloe smiled, amused with how well he knew her. "I want to pay a visit to the good Dr."

Oliver needed less than a second to formulate his response. "Absolutely not Chloe. This guy is knee deep in whatever crazy shit Tess and her psycho boy toy have planned and I'm not about to let you walk in blind with only your laptop as a weapon."

"Look Oliver, this guy knows something. Tess isn't going to come waltzing in here spilling her double crossing guts any time soon and we _have_ to stop this." She placed a hand gently across his cheek, forcing his gaze to hers. "Could you live with yourself if another meta was killed because you felt a need to play it safe for once?" she countered with a lift of her perfectly manicured brow.

Oliver scowled. "_I'm_ not playing it safe Chloe, _you_ are. It's been too many close calls, and we need you here, manning the Watchtower safely. _I_ need you here Chloe."

She smiled in spite of herself, strangely amused by his arbitrary display of affection. "I know you do Oliver, and believe me when I tell you I'm in no hurry to play the hapless vigilante. But someone needs to interrogate him and we both know I'm the girl for the job. It's not like we can ask Lois."

Oliver sighed and relaxed back into the couch, pulling her with him. "Alright, so you have a point. But that doesn't mean I have to like it."

She nestled herself into his side, fingers idly tracing patterns on his chest. "I'm not asking you to Ollie, but you have to trust me on this."

"Fine," he reluctantly conceded. "But if you come back with even one mark on you I didn't put there last night you're in for one hell of a spanking."

Chloe peered up at him, a wicked little grin spreading across her face. "You promise?"

Oliver's eyebrows flew up to his hairline, and he returned her grin wholeheartedly. "Man, I love it when you get kinky," he responded happily before pulling her in for a kiss.


	13. Chapter 13

As usual, I apologize for any errors...

* * *

Dr. Kratzer was fairly distinguished looking. He was in his late forties, with dark brown hair distorted by flecks of gray. His features were hard. Chloe thought they seemed coldly aristocratic. His lab coat was pristinely white, his badge and pen perfectly aligned in the breast pocket. To the average onlooker, she supposed he came across as confident and able, but knowing what she did he seemed more malefic than anything.

She rapped her knuckles against the door jam and smiled benignly when he looked up, appearing rather surprised to see her in his office. "Dr. Kratzer, I'm Chloe Sullivan," she began. "I've heard through the grapevine that you're a leader in the field of neurosurgery and I have a few questions for you."

He rolled his eyes, having obviously drawn the wrong yet seemingly apparent conclusion to her presence. "I'm sorry, but we don't allow press back here." He reached for his phone. "And how exactly did you get past security?"

"Oh, I'm not with the press," she hastened to assure. "I'm here for personal reasons, and I actually made an appointment."

He looked through his calendar, stumped when he couldn't find her name. "Most appointments wait in the exam rooms Miss...Sullivan you said?"

"Yes. But I'm here for more of a consult, and the girl at reception said I could come back."

"Remind me to fire her, considering she's obviously an incompetent fool," he groused. "But since you're here, please sit down then. I take it there's a specific reason you requested to see me?"

Chloe sat down across from him, crossing her legs as she clasped her hands and placed them in her lap. She wanted to appear sympathetic and mild. "There is," she replied. "I have a friend. I encouraged her to come see you herself but, she refused."

"So you've taken it upon yourself to become her advocate I presume?"

"I guess you could say that. She's been having headaches, and not simple ones either. Most of them are accompanied by what her primary care physician wrote off as hallucinations. She was set to give up, but I told her I would look into it. She's not what you would call...normal."

The doctor's expression soured and he leaned forward, ready to dismiss her. "Then perhaps a psychiatrist would be better suited to her needs Miss Sullivan. I really don't have time for—"

"It was made very clear that you work with the metahuman population," Chloe interjected. "She doesn't need a shrink, Dr., she needs an ally."

"And I'm afraid you've been fed faulty information. I can assure you my patients are quite average."

"Right," Chloe muttered sarcastically. "Look, she can see the future, or at least she _could_ before the headaches started to incapacitate her."

"Are you certain?" Dr. Kratzer asked, intrigued.

"Yes. She doesn't deserve what's happening to her, and she needs help." Chloe slowly lifted herself from her chair, catching his eye pointedly. "But since it's obvious you're not equipped to deal with it I'll just find someone else."

"Now let's not be hasty," he rushed to placate. "You have to understand, if it comes out I work with metahumans my career is over."

Chloe smiled and sat back down. "I'm aware of the need for confidentiality."

"Then perhaps we can work something out," he offered. "You said she could see the future. Is this a specific view or more of a vague interpretation?"

"A little of both, I think. But before we go any further, I do have some questions."

"Of course. I can understand a certain amount of caution."

"What other meta's have you worked with?"

Dr. Kratzer leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers on his desk thoughtfully. "I can't provide names, but there have been quite a few," he told her. "Mostly soft abilities, nothing too spectacular. Many come to me for help controlling it actually."

"Is that very common with metahumans? Problems with control I mean?" Chloe knew she needed to appear genuinely interested as well as needy, but the knowledge this man was preying on people coming to him for help simply disgusted her. She wanted to slap him; to do _something_ to note his atrocities, but merely clenched her fists instead. His blatant lies about the victims weren't helping any either. Soft abilities my ass, she thought bitterly.

"You'd be surprised," he continued. "Some of these abilities can be very dangerous when placed in the wrong hands, and our goal is to ensure a peaceful coexistence with them."

"Considering it's not a mainstream cause, how do you get funding?" she inquired.

"Private benefactor. We're provided with state of the art equipment, research facilities and staff. It's really quite spectacular."

"That's a lot of money for a controversial advocacy. Don't you worry about their motivation? It just seems odd they'd take an interest in a group of people most consider subhuman at best."

"Your cynicism is understandable but unnecessary. Our goal is to help, not harm."

Chloe scoffed. It was time to move forward with her little inquisition, and the sooner she could get away from such an erroneous piece of shit the better. "Lofty ambitions Dr. Kratzer. But LuthorCorp has always been known to look out for their own interests above any..._cause_ they may find themselves funding."

"I wasn't aware I'd mentioned who our benefactor was."

"Oh, you didn't. I'm just resourceful," Chloe informed him with a grin.

An affected look passed over his face, and she knew he'd realized her intentions weren't so agreeable after all. "I get the feeling there _is_ no friend Miss Sullivan. Why are you really here?" he demanded.

"To protect the meta's you're so keen on exploiting. LuthorCorp offered you a pretty good deal, didn't they? Clean up your record and pad your pockets. Not much reason to uphold the Hippocratic oath anymore, is there?"

"Are you implying something or do you just enjoy making a nuisance out of yourself?"

"I'm merely making an observation. I know Brensen Lask was a patient of yours, and so was Annie Rasser. Funny how they ended up dead within weeks of seeing you."

He was rigid in his chair; suitably defensive. "My patient list isn't open for discussion. I've no doubt whatever happened with them was purely coincidental. To be honest, I don't even recall who they were."

"Right. I'm sure your records aren't immaculate. If you're so indispensible every patient would be personal and you know it."

"My work is important, and you'd do well to remember that."

Chloe abruptly stood, slapping her palms face down on his desk as she sneered at him. "Important? You're facilitating murder!"

"Enough!" he barked, standing up himself. "I think you're aware of doctor-patient confidentiality Ms. Sullivan, and this conversation is _over_."

* * *

Chloe was frustrated. She'd gained enough insight to pigeon hole the doctor as a glorified lackey, but an important one at that. She was no closer to finding puppet masters or proof, however, and _that's_ what had her seething. She was on her way to meet Oliver for lunch and was just nearing the restaurant when she spotted Lois. Her cousin waved and jogged over.

"Just the person I was hoping to see," Lois chirped. "Too busy canoodling with Oliver to spend any time with your ole cuz?"

Chloe leaned against a phone booth. "Funny. It's not like you haven't been preoccupied chasing down leads," she countered, "_and_ chasing down Clark."

"Cute," Lois snarked. "So did you hear about the bodies found lately?" she questioned with a grimace. "Pretty sick."

"That's an understatement," Chloe agreed. "Any leads on a connection?"

"Nah. Random psychopath for the first three, but with the body count hitting five Stern wants the dirt."

"Five?" Chloe was stunned. She and Oliver—not to mention Victor—had been keeping up with the situation and there hadn't been an inkling of mayhem past the initial spree for them to investigate. The fact that two more had perished right under their nose left her feeling bereft.

"Two were found yesterday and the cops are trying to shut out the press, as usual. Elitist sons of bitches," Lois complained. "They wouldn't know their badge from their ass if it weren't for us half the time."

"So the latest two?" Chloe pressed.

"Both found in Suicide Slums, but the guy's been dead a lot longer. Girl looked pretty fresh."

"So they've moved dumping sites," Chloe mused. It didn't make any sense. The outskirts were pretty barren, not to mention isolated, and despite the recent attention it remained relatively visitor free. Moving the bodies to a crime riddled and heavily populated area seemed counter intuitive at best.

"Looks like," Lois concurred. "Whoever's doing this is a complete freak of nature. Did you know two of the victims were patients at Belle Reve? Freaks killing freaks—it's insane Chloe."

"I read about it, but wasn't the other victim completely normal?"

"Normal is relative, but I guess so."

"Did you get names?" Chloe asked. After lunch, maybe she could run them through Watchtower's database and see what popped up. Chances are they were equally as powerful as the first victims, _and_ the siblings Silton.

"This is me we're talking about. Of _course_ I got names. Ronald Graves and Mindy Owens."

"Well, at least it's a starting point."

"More than that. I'm late for a press conference so I'll catch you later, ok?"

"Do you want to meet up tomorrow?" Chloe suggested, realizing it had been a while since she and Lois had done anything more than trade light conversation in passing. "Eight at the apartment?"

"Sounds like a plan," Lois agreed. "Tell Oliver I say hey and my threat remains firmly intact. He better be treating you right."

Chloe just laughed and continued on her way.

* * *

"I didn't get much out of him," Chloe said as she sat across from Oliver at the restaurant. Their lunch had been served, but Chloe's appetite was practically nonexistent. "He acted like some humble altruist before I cornered him. It honestly gave me the chills."

Oliver set down his sandwich and glared. "Son of a bitch. I guess it proves he's key though." Oliver knew the doctor was heavily involved, but covering up murder under the guise of humanitarian efforts made him want to puke.

Chloe took a sip of her water, swirling the ice around as she thought about things. "Without a doubt. If he's not personally scrambling their brains then he's definitely giving someone else the means and know how."

"Did he say anything incriminating?"

"He mentioned research facilities and staff. I'm thinking he was talking about the labs."

Oliver leaned back in his chair, expression stark. "It makes sense."

"By the way, I ran into Lois outside. There's been two more Oliver."

His reaction was much like Chloe's had been earlier; sorrowful and guilty. "Are you serious?"

"Found in Suicide Slums," she confirmed. "The dump sites moved."

"How did we not know about this?"

"Lois said the MPD's been locking them out, and it's not like we have anybody on this solo—it's too dangerous."

Oliver sighed. It had been a joint decision not to delegate a lead on this; one he was starting to regret. But at the time they didn't have enough information to justify it. Hell, even with two more victims and Dr. Kratzer's information slip they _still_ didn't have enough. "I know. Doesn't make it any easier to swallow though, does it?"

Chloe offered him a cheerless smile, empathizing with his struggles and guilt. "No, but we'll get there Oliver. We're not giving up."

* * *

The minute they entered Watchtower, Oliver tossed his suit jacket on the couch and immediately wrenched off his tie. Chloe's jacket and shoes followed as they hit the computers running. It didn't take long to find out about their victims, and soon they were in their usual position of work and research on the couch; Chloe's coffee clutched in her hand as Oliver skimmed over some papers.

"So Ronald has no connection to Belle Reve or the first three victims; neither does Mindy," he supplied.

"But, they both saw Dr. Kratzer," Chloe pointed out. "Sycophantic bastard."

"So they're definitely atypical, but we know they're important. The question is why."

Chloe grabbed a folder from the stack on the coffee table, flipped it open and shot him a grin. "Maybe because Ronald's a shape shifter and Mindy can psychically read objects. Just give her a trinket and she'll give you a dissertation."

"Damn," Oliver blew out. "Whoever's collecting these guys is turning out one hell of a selection."

"If it's Zod, it kind of makes sense. He's addicted to power so he won't prey on the weak—and Tess is suddenly built the same way."

Oliver snorted and tossed his papers aside. "You got that right. It just seems so surreal, doesn't it? I mean, Clark's 'brother' is plotting world domination, with my formerly loyal and idealistic ex-girlfriend happily playing Mallory Knox to his Mickey."

"Is it wrong I actually liked that movie?" Sick as it was, she thought it held a visceral appeal.

"Well it _is_ a classic," Oliver agreed, "and Woody Harrelson rocked that role."

Chloe chuckled. "Anyway... We're still no closer to cracking this thing, and more meta's are going to get hurt. If Lois is on the trail, she could get caught in the crossfire too."

"Speaking of crossfire, do you think she told Clark?" Involving the league was one thing, but having Clark nosing in was a vast complication they needed desperately to avoid.

"Probably, but I doubt he's put two and two together and he _won't_ ask the team. He still doesn't play well with others."

"Very true. I feel like we're missing something though. Five victims, the same doctors, two potential victims on the radar..."

"Barry Wells and Laura Silton," Chloe blurted out.

Oliver glanced at her, a little confused. "Ok?"

"There has to be a pattern somewhere, and I bet it's in Kratzer's files." She stood up, marching over to the nearest console with purpose. Her fingers flew over the keys as she looked for information. "Shit," she uttered after a few minutes. "Laura Silton was on the books for Tuesday Oliver."

He perked up at that. "Every single meta who sees this guy winds up dead," he commented. "It's not exactly hard to see the outcome here."

"It's only been two days; we still have a chance to help her."

Oliver scrubbed a hand over his face. He should have seen this coming. Regardless of Laura's past (or current and potential insanity) Chloe would try to eke out the good in her; the decency, which would inevitably push her to help in any way she could. Unfortunately, that usually meant putting herself in harm's way. He stood, and decided to cut her off at the pass. "Alright, I'll see what I can do."

Chloe turned to face him, realizing he meant to risk it alone. She knew he could take care of himself and keep safe, more so than most people, but she couldn't help the prickle of fear at the thought of him in danger; imagined or otherwise. "Just, promise you'll be careful Ollie. They won't know you're not a meta and...I just don't think I can..."

Oliver crossed over to her, pulling her into a hug. Her fumbling was endearing, and heartening to his hopes for their future. "I'll be careful Chloe, I promise," he murmured into her hair. "And successful or not, the first thing I'll do is come right home to you—always."


	14. Chapter 14

I apologize for any mistakes and I hope you enjoy! Sorry about the lag in update time, but real life seems to want to keep me inundated. As usual thank you so much for the reviews!

* * *

Oliver was perched on top of a warehouse roof located on the edge of Metropolis. Chloe was currently holed up in his apartment, playing Watchtower from there while he scouted out the lab he'd tracked Kratzer to. He peered inside, his stomach clenching in revulsion at the scene laid out before him.

The Dr. was right about state of the art equipment. But what he failed to mention were the two top of the line stainless steel dissection tables—with all the gruesome accoutrements—situated above large drains that were obviously employed to aid staff in washing away blood and tissue from their victims; some of which still remained from their last...procedure. It was sickening.

The lab area itself was open, but there was an upper level accessed by stairs which appeared to be unused. If he could jimmy the window he could slip in unnoticed—the perfect opportunity to do a little furtive sleuthing. From what he could tell there was no sign of Laura Silton, but Kratzer was there front and center along with the psychiatrist, Dr. Fisher, and an unidentified man who was keeping to the shadows. Hopefully he could make an ID once inside.

Oliver took a few preliminary pictures and sent them to Chloe. He switched on his com link, anxious to hear her calming voice. "Arrow to Tower—looks like you were right about the labs. Kratzer and Fisher are in one now."

"Any sign of Laura?"

"Nope. Just some equipment and staff running around. I'm trying for a closer look." He studied the window, finding its weak point and began working his way in. "I sent some pics your way," he said. "It'll give you something to do. I'd hate for you to feel like a glorified watchdog whose only purpose is doting on their master—aka, me." He paused for a minute as an extremely pleasant image worked its way through his brain. "Though there is something to be said for a gorgeous blond waiting on her hands and knees with my slippers—preferably naked of course."

Chloe's laughter echoed in his ear, causing him to smile. "I'm on it," she assured him. "The pictures, not the slippers Romeo. Although I could be swayed on the naked part if you play your cards right. Be careful Arrow," she added, her tone changing subtly, and he knew it was back to business. "We don't know what kind of security they have or the lengths they'll go to in order to keep off the radar."

"You got it," he promised, signing off as he pried the window free and slipped inside. He could hear people talking as he gathered more intel. The man in the shadows was gone, but Kratzer was still there.

"We still have more. Three to be exact," he told one of the staff members. "But you know Sir's first priority is the girl—_she's_ the link."

"But we haven't been able to find her."

"Then try harder!" Kratzer barked before storming out of the room, Dr. Fisher hot on his heels.

* * *

"Get anything from the pics?" Oliver asked as he strode into the apartment, slipping off his hood and glasses.

"They're useful," Chloe replied from the couch, "but I can't make out the third man. I don't understand, I thought it was just Tess and Zod but..."

"Considering Tess is still underground and LuthorCorp's still active, I'm betting we've got a third party."

Chloe's face grew pinched, disheartened as more complications seemed to stymie their every move. "But who?" she asked.

"That's the million dollar question," Oliver stated, scrubbing a hand roughly through his hair. "I'm going to grab a shower and change." He dropped a kiss on her forehead as he passed.

* * *

Chloe sighed and pulled out the package she'd received that morning. She was hesitant to open it, in light of recent events. There was no return address, nothing to indicate who sent it—and she was ashamed to admit a part of her didn't want to know. Things were growing rather desolate, and for the first time in a long while she could feel the insidious desire to turn tail and run.

Chloe had never been a timid figure, and she wasn't about to start now. But something about this case unnerved her deeply. Perhaps it was the strange affinity she felt for the victims, or the fervid concern for Oliver's well being as well as that of the teams. But whatever it was, she needed to get a handle on it before it caused irreparable damage to something (or someone) she couldn't live without.

Oliver strode out of his bedroom then, disrupting her sullen musings. His t-shirt was on and his sweatpants hung low on his hips as he scrubbed at his hair with a towel. "What's that?" he questioned, eyeing the package she was staring at as if it were a bomb. It made him inordinately curious.

"I don't know yet. It was in the mail this morning but..."

He tossed the towel on a nearby chair and dropped down beside her. "Could be something important Chlo. Just bite the bullet," he instructed, even though he could understand her hesitation. Everything had been so fouled up lately and he had no doubt it was only the beginning. But they couldn't afford to grow daunted, not with so much at stake.

Chloe glanced up at him, expression brazenly wary and ripped open the package. Documents fell out, along with a few files and a neat bundle of paperwork that looked like research information. She grabbed a few things and skimmed over them; breath catching in her throat. "Unbelievable," she whispered.

"What is it?"

She handed him the paperwork. It told of the pineal gland in the brain, and how it was supposedly the connecting link between the physical and spiritual world; necessary in initiating supernatural abilities. There was also information about harnessing and removing the gland for its properties.

"My God, could this be what they're trying to do?" she questioned with blunt horror.

Oliver sat back, his head shaking dumbly. "This is insane," he blew out. "Is it just me or do you feel like you've walked onto the set of aB science fiction movie? How to Make a Monster maybe?" he added in jest. Chloe simply stared. He shrugged and read over the file on harnessing abilities. "But if it's real, the possibilities are endless."

"And people would kill to get their hands on this kind of research," Chloe agreed. She rooted through some more paperwork, pointing to a section she considered important. "Look. Some of the research is on a potential link between kryptonite infections and the pineal gland; if the infection manifested in the gland the same way a genetic supernatural ability would."

"Shit. If this is what Tess is after..."

"It says here Dr. Kratzer's been running tests on the pineal gland in each victim."

"It explains the skulls and lacerations on the brain."

Chloe pulled herself closer to Oliver, a tremor wracking her slight frame and he slid his arms around her. "How can someone be so cruel Ollie?" she asked, her voice soft and doleful. "To just leave them like that?"

"I know," he murmured. "At least in a hospital they would have been left with some dignity."

"Their poor families," she commiserated. Oliver didn't reply, just sat with her and soaked it all in; paying their respects to such callously discarded humanity, however lacking they may have been.

After a while, he gently untangled himself and pushed them back to the task at hand. "Chloe, look at this."

She took the file from his hand, eyes widening in shock. It was a warning about Kandorians with powers exceeding that of their own race—if that was even possible. "Zod would be unstoppable," she breathed. "Do you really think he's that desperate?"

"He's crazy Chloe, and Tess is off with the fairies herself these days. God only knows what those two are thinking."

"There's information on the group at Belle Reve too. They're strong Oliver—really strong."

"We already knew that." He scanned over the information. "Highly volatile," he read aloud. "Nice bit of criminal history here. A thief with a penchant for murder, a deranged kid who obliterated his entire family, a femme fatale who enjoyed permanently ending her relationships... I guess Tess figured no one would miss a candidate for death row."

"You've got to give her credit, she covered her bases pretty damn well."

"She always has," Oliver noted. "She was one hell of an ally, and now she's an irritatingly formidable enemy."

Chloe cocked her head to the side, wheels turning as she tried to piece it all together. "When you were at the lab, apart from the pictures did you get anything useful?"

"Not really, just the third guy. He looked to be on the same playing field as the nutty doctors, but I couldn't make him out. He stuck to the shadows, almost like he knew there was a chance he could be seen." Oliver was frustrated. Something about the man had struck him as familiar, but to his ire he just couldn't put his finger on it—and his seeming ineptitude was driving him crazy.

"Do you think he knew you were there?"

"No, but he knows a lot more than he should. He was gone by the time I made it inside; probably left after checking up on things. That's when the talk really started anyway. They're scared Chloe."

"Of what?"

Oliver shrugged, reaching out to pull her legs across his lap. She sighed when he started massaging her feet. "I don't know. They were talking about more victims—a girl in particular. She seemed pretty important."

Chloe leaned her head back against the arm of the couch, eyes fluttering closed. "Laura?" she asked.

"I don't think so. She's already in their back pocket. It sounded like a meta they haven't tagged yet, and so far they've been impossible to trace; save the ones from Belle Reve anyway. Unfortunately I think we're going to have to let this one play out." Chloe raised a hand to her head, squeezing lightly as a pained expression stole across her face. "Hey, you feeling ok?" he questioned, concern already on the rise.

"Just another headache," she murmured. She looked up at him warily, a trace of fear in her normally bright eyes. "They're not going away Ollie."

He smoothed his hand along her calf, the gesture as much for his comfort as it was for hers. He'd been afraid of this. Chloe was one to suffer in silence, always putting others needs above her own even if it was to the detriment of herself and her health. For her to admit vulnerability...well, it meant something was seriously wrong. "Is it time to see Emil?" he asked gently.

Chloe's eyes glistened, but they were determined; a sight Oliver was thankful to see. "I don't want to," she admitted, "but...I think it might be."


	15. Chapter 15

Thanks again for all the faithful reviews, I really appreciate them! Sorry for the lag in updates. I started this story with plenty of free time and now I'm lucky if I find time to eat! Once more, I apologize for any errors...

* * *

"So what did Dr. Emil have to say?" Oliver had been on pins and needles the better part of the morning, worrying about possible results. He'd been tempted to call Emil, but figured he'd catch hell for it from the little spitfire in front of him so he resigned himself to waiting.

Chloe leaned back against the wall, arms folded across her chest. "He ran all the checks Ollie. He can't pinpoint any illness; nothing that would explain my symptoms."

"What's causing the headaches then?"

"He's not sure. He said it could be stress, possibly a hormonal imbalance. He ran some blood work, but all that showed up was a slight anomaly. Barely anything really."

"And you call that nothing?" He shook his head. Chloe was forever playing nonchalant and it drove him crazy. Today was no different apparently, and although he knew it was useless to panic prematurely he was damned if he could stop the fear.

"Right now it is," she declared. "He's planning on further testing, just to be safe. For now though, all I can do is try to relax and take some aspirin if it gets too bad." She pulled away from the wall, her expression turning chafed. "He suggested I try _tea_," she spat. "Can you believe that? Tea? He's a sick, sick man."

Oliver laughed in spite of himself, his mood slowly lifting. "It's a travesty—absolutely," he said, tapping his fingers against his chin. "Maybe he's trying to kill you instead. Brilliant methodology too. You know, he could be working with Tess. I think you should get a second opinion." He smiled as she glared. It felt good to joke; to leave the potential horrors behind. He needed that with Chloe—he craved it.

"Very funny Oliver," she admonished before suddenly switching gears. "I did some thinking though, and I've decided instead of tea I'll just have sex." Oliver's eyebrows shot up, his jaw lax. "By the time we're through," she continued, "I always feel like a limp noodle, and you can't get much more relaxed than that."

"_More_ sex?" he spluttered. "Not that I'm complaining, but when in hell are we supposed to find the time? We're damn active as it is."

"Whenever we can," she stated succinctly. "In fact, I have twenty minutes before I'm supposed to meet Lois for lunch." She started towards him, unbuttoning her blouse and tossing it aside before going to work on her pants.

Oliver grunted as she roughly yanked off his shirt, a few buttons scattering in her haste. She tore at his belt buckle, forcing him closer.

"I'm going to die," he rasped, letting a rakish grin spread over his face in anticipation. "And I'll love every second of it."

* * *

Chloe sighed heavily, feeling utterly drained and despondent. It was hard to believe that less than 24 hours ago she'd been indulging in therapeutic sex. Now here she was, stationed in a cold hospital chair wondering how it had all gone to hell so quickly. Clark had left not long ago, gunning for Zod she presumed. After watching his work on the castle, she could understand Clark's need to batten down the hatches. Zod had thrown them headfirst into a fight none of them were prepared for.

In a way though, she was pleased their psychotic megalomaniac of an enemy had targeted Checkmate. They already knew too much about Clark's people, not to mention the wealth of information they'd managed to dig up on Oliver and the team. Having Waller and her cronies out of commission—or at least close to it—would certainly make their lives a little easier. Saving the world from the Kandorian threat was priority number one of course, but it wouldn't hurt if Checkmate became the first casualty of war.

She glanced over at Oliver, pale and weak—a shadow of the man she knew and... She stopped herself quickly and drew a shaky hand through her hair. Thinking about the possibility of love only led to bitter convolution, and she couldn't afford to lose it now. She stretched neck, wincing at the audible crack it emitted.

Oliver was such an enigmatic figure—larger than life and unapologetically brash and clever. Since day one, he'd made it clear he viewed the world as his playground, and never failed to express how much he loved playing with his...toys. She'd enjoyed watching him grow from an irresponsible playboy into a stalwart man, and it never failed to amaze her when she the thought over his journey. It had been hopelessly traumatic, and she respected him all the more for making it out the other side.

Being his friend afforded her with insights not many were privy to see, and as such she knew what to expect when they started seeing each other. He'd been clear in his intentions, and his ability to be concise continued as they did. For too long she'd been victim to fickle or conflicted hearts—her own included—and she credited Oliver with freeing her from it all. Now though, it seemed like everything could be taken away in an instant.

She stretched her legs out, leaning back a little. Her back ached. It seemed most of her time today was spent waiting somewhere: here at the hospital and earlier at Watchtower, with Tess. It was strange. When first confronted, her defenses had been firmly in place—not raw and glaring as they were now. Having Tess so precisely call her on being emotionally sick had thrown her; made her feel less a human being and more a robot.

In the past, such detachment was something she prided herself on. She mistakenly believed that isolation enabled her to get the job done where others would falter—most likely over their feelings. Now she realized she'd simply been ignorant. She _was_ hiding, and Tess was right. Oliver had proven himself time and time again in the past few months. He wasn't leaving her of his own accord.

Taking a sip of her now cold and still bitter hospital coffee, she mulled over the enigma that was Tess Mercer. She was curious as to what made the other woman open up. It wasn't like her to concede victory or offer vulnerability. She wondered if something had happened. In all honesty, she'd assumed Tess would use the opportunity to eliminate the competition, or at least disable it for a while. Speaking of Oliver and providing insight made her seem almost...human. Lex Luthor cloned or coming back from the dead would have unnerved her less.

A cough sounded from the door, followed by a softly spoken "Chloe..."

Her head swung up and she smiled faintly as Emil made his way into the room. She was exceedingly grateful for the reprieve from her caustic thoughts. Stewing over things only caused her more distress, and Oliver would need her capable when he woke up. "He looks peaceful, doesn't he?" she asked with no trace of guile. "You'd think he was just sleeping."

"Technically he is," Emil responded. "He's strong Chloe—he's a fighter. You don't have to worry about him. Not this time."

"I'll worry every time. That's just the way it works." She stood up, brushing her hands across her thighs. "So the prognosis is good?"

"Yes, actually. I expect him to make a full recovery. I assure you he'll be well taken care of, and I have a treatment plan in place to get him back on his feet quickly. I don't foresee any complications."

"That's good. You know how he gets if he's forced out of commission too long."

Emil chuckled. "He is a bit high maintenance," he kindly teased before looking her over with a knowing eye. He catalogued the dark circles under unusually dull eyes and her battered countenance. "You look exhausted," he noted. "I've got things under control here. Why don't you get some sleep? I promise to call if anything changes."

Chloe thought about it for a minute. Emil was a straight shooter—he would have told her if there was cause for concern. Beyond that, she (and the entire team) trusted him implicitly with their care. He wouldn't let anything happen to Oliver and she knew that. With a sigh, she nodded her assent. "I'll be at Oliver's apartment," she informed him, heading for the door. "Thanks Emil, for everything."


	16. Chapter 16

Oliver was tired, despite the near miraculous recovery he'd just made at Met Gen exactly two hours ago. Emil had taken care of things and ensured Oliver was discharged before any questions could be asked, and now they were back at his apartment ready to...discuss a few things. Chloe was in Oliver's room sleeping, so he sent Emil in to check on her. She was his first priority at the moment, and ever since the Dr. had relayed Chloe's less than stellar appearance at the hospital he'd been worried.

Emil stepped out of Oliver's room, his expression a fusion of hopeful and grim. Oliver cornered him immediately. "What the hell happened?" he demanded.

Emil began pacing, though out of nerves or excitement Oliver couldn't be sure. "You know we found an anomaly in Chloe's blood," he began. "I've been testing it, and based on the results I took a gamble and opted for a transfusion. It worked."

Oliver's eyes narrowed infinitesimally, suspicion creeping in. "She's not even the same blood type Emil. And why would it even have an effect? Braniac wiped everything out."

"Oh, I know. There was no evidence of kryptonite in her system," Emil confirmed. "It was her blood that enabled you to heal, and part of the anomaly ensures no adverse interactions with blood type." He paused, glancing up at Oliver. "She has the potential to be a...universal donor for lack of a better term."

Oliver was stunned, not to mention angry. Chloe's health was Emil's responsibility, and the way he saw it the good doctor was lying down on the job. "How are you _just_ now figuring this out Emil?" he inquired with derision. "You've run physicals on her before, why didn't you see something then?"

Emil stepped forward, placing a hand on Oliver's forearm as if he were beseeching him to listen. "Because there was no reason to check for it. Look, her blood holds genetic markers unlike anything I've ever seen," he explained. "It was even the deciding factor in her meta ability. It could be hereditary, it could be something else—but the possibilities Oliver..."

He immediately bristled and shrugged Emil off; his face set in stone as he glared down at the smaller man. "No. Don't even go there Hamilton. She's not going to be your lab rat."

"I wasn't suggesting—"

"Yes you were," he reiterated coarsely. "Maybe not in the way Lex or any other deranged slice happy psychopath would but you _do_ want to study her; find out what makes her blood tick. I'm not letting that happen."

Emil stared at him for a minute, noting the rigid stance, arms locked across his chest. In no way was Oliver backing down on this. "I understand," he finally acquiesced, "and please believe me when I tell you I have her best interest at heart. I do believe she could help people. Thousands, maybe millions—I don't know. But I promise I'll work with what I have and nothing else."

Oliver relaxed upon hearing Emil's assertion, but only slightly. "Thank you, he offered, albeit a little reluctantly. "I guess that's all I can ask."

Emil nodded and started packing up, throwing a few papers into his bag. "Any physical symptoms should die down in time," he told the implacable billionaire. "I think it's just a manifestation of the changes she's gone through recently, but I don't see cause for concern. If anything changes, call me," he said before sweeping out of the apartment.

Oliver watched after him a moment, simply trying to process—then he poured himself a stiff drink. Emil's revelation gutted him. Sitting down on the couch, he shoved a hand through already unkempt hair and sighed deeply. Chloe didn't deserve this, not after all the shit she'd already been through. God, her list of fuck ups in life read like a scene straight from Elia Kazan. In many ways, her misery rivaled his own. But she was overcoming it. Chloe had finally gotten to the point where she could begin to embrace herself for the incredible woman he knew her to be—and now this. He had no idea what this would do to her. The only thing he _was_ certain of—shockingly enough—were his feelings for her.

He took a sip of his drink, enjoying the way it scorched down his throat. Who knows, maybe this was the catalyst, he thought, or maybe he'd seen it all along but deliberately played obtuse. Either way, the fact remained he was in love with her. His shoulders hunched and he let out the breath he felt like he'd been holding since the first time he touched her. He felt relieved to finally admit it. True, he'd loved other women before—in a few ways, deeply. Tess had been about hope and a rather frantic idealism, Lois, about redemption. But with Chloe, he'd gained everything he cherished in his prior relationships along with a deep seated friendship and longevity he knew would serve them well. Chloe was the whole package, pint sized and all. Now, however, he just had to convince _her_. She was definitely more willing to knot their strings, but the arrant fear he encountered whenever they got too close continued to rear its head, and he knew he had to tread carefully.

The only problem was his growing reliance on her in just about every way imaginable. His own strings had successfully melded into titanium plated steel cables. To put it bluntly, he was screwed.

What was he going to do? he wondered. He was well aware of his duty not only to the meta's but to his own team as well. They needed to be protected. Add to it Zod and his quest for world domination, and Oliver's priority plate was full. Now though, he needed to find a way to split the pie again and cover Chloe to the best of his ability. He had a feeling a big fat target had just been painted on her back and it was her blood that put it there. If Tess got wind of it...

He shuddered. It would be the end of everything—at least for _him_. He felt utterly adrift. He needed Chloe to guide him. Over the course of the past months, he'd come to realize he worked best when she was with him. She challenged him, helped him, corralled him and grounded him. Everything came together, and most of their plans were foolproof–and they desperately needed one of those now.

He heard a rustling in the bedroom and knew she was awake. He took one last sip of his drink, draining the glass, and slammed it down on the coffee table. He needed to see her, to reassure himself she was still his—and then he needed to break the news. He strode through his apartment, pausing when he reached the door. Opening it cautiously, he smiled a little when green eyes met his in wonder and confusion.

"Hey Chloe," he said softly. "We need to talk."

* * *

Completely pointless FYI but my favorite Elia Kazan film is Splendor in the Grass. Love Natalie Wood.


	17. Chapter 17

My computer crashed and I finally snagged someone's IPAD to get this chapter done. I'm not used to Pages and have tried my best to keep the spelling and grammar errors to a minimum. Sorry if there's more than usual...

* * *

"Oliver! Thank god you're ok!" Chloe gripped him tightly, reveling in the comfort of his strength. It took a minute before common sense reared its head, and then her mind was off and running; searching for the reason behind his brisk recovery. "Wait, _how_ are you ok?" she questioned a little suspiciously. "Emil said you'd be a few more days at least. He was planning on fixing the burns."

Oliver smiled, reaching out to wipe the confusion off her face. "Calm down Chloe, I'm fine. Emil made a...breakthrough I guess, with some of his research. Benefited me pretty damn well actually."

"Emil wasn't researching anything Oliver. Nothing exceptー" It hit her like a ton of bricks.

"Yea," he confirmed. "I didn't understand most of it. I'm not a science geek. But there's something in your blood Chloe. Something healed you."

"Shit. Does that mean..."

"No, there's no sign of kryptonite. He thinks it could be hereditary."

"That's even worse Ollie." She scooted up the bed, Oliver settling beside her. He crossed his legs at the ankles and wrapped an arm tightly around her shoulders. "You know what happened with my mom," she said. It wasn't something she talked about, but Oliver was well aware of the deep-seated fear shed go insane like Moira. It was part of why Chloe held on so tightly to even the tiniest scrap of control.

"This is different," he assured her. "It's not an ability you can actively use. At least, I don't think it is. Emil gave me a blood transfusion."

Her head snapped up, eyes meeting his crossly. "He could have killed you!"

"He said it was safe. Somehow, you're the perfect match. To everyone."

"Oh my god." She took a deep breath, concentrating on the feel of Oliver's fingers slowly kneading her neck. She wondered how it happened; how she managed to go from freak of the week to league babysitter to the Inquisitor's next potential headline. It was unimaginable.

"This is huge Chloe. Alice down the rabbit hole huge."

"I guess that makes you the Cheshire cat then."

Oliver grinned. "I always liked him. You should talk to Emil. He can help you sort this out."

"I guess. I wonder what changed though."

"What do you mean?"

Chloe tucked her feet underneath her, leaned heavily against his side. "I was fine after Braniac. No residual effects. I didn't start feeling off until February."

"And you bumped into Brensen Lask after Christmas," Oliver mused.

"But Emil said there was no sign of kryptonite."

"I know. It doesn't make sense."

"He was strong though. What if he managed to tap into whatever's in my blood? His files never specified it hooked on to the cause of an ability, only the ability itself."

He tensed as a few of the missing pieces slid into place. "And that's what he manipulated. So if whatever's in your blood is similarー"

"He could have latched on to that and not even realized." She squeezed his hand, knowing his thoughts were swirling with potential dangers to her well being. "I would still be completely off his radar, she offered, hoping to assuage those fears. It seemed to work, if only a little.

"Well thank God for that," he agreed. "Could you imagine if Tess found out? Or Zod?"

She shivered a little. "Lex's lab would seem like a vacation home." Pulling closer still, she reached a hand up, gently stroking his face. "I was scared you know. It just didn't seem right, you laying there like that."

"Oh Chloe," he breathed. "I'm sorry I scared you."

He wrapped her in his arms, just holding her, and she wished she could tell him; could admit he was a necessity and Tess had been deadly in her accuracy of where things stood. But the words refused to come. "Tess said I gave you purpose," she told him instead. "You think she's right?"

Oliver thought about it. Chloe gave him guidance and direction; she gave him a reason for fighting and she made the fight worth it in the end. "Yes," he answered. "You do. _We_ do."

Chloe smiled in spite of the severity of his statement. It may not have been a declaration of love, but for Oliver it was pretty damn close. "She was right about a lot of things. I'm still hiding, even with you."

"I know, and it's ok Chloe. When you're ready, I'll be here. If you haven't noticed, I've been on your timetable for a while now."

"I've noticed. I notice a lot of things." She pulled back a bit, sliding her gaze up to his. "It's different now she knows."

"Was it hard seeing Watchtower go?" he questioned. Knowing how much it meant to her, he figured she had to be crushed. Her sanctuary was gone. She must have felt very...misplaced.

"In some ways. I'm not really sure how I feel about it yet, on a personal level anyway. But it was the right thing for Clark, and for the league. What we know..."

"Do we know how much Checkmate got?"

"Not enough to cause any real damage I don't think. Tess proved herself useful."

He reined in his surprise. He figured if the two women were again in close quarters there would be casualties, or at least substantial bloodshed. "What the hell happened anyway? All I got from Emil was the bare-bones of your little adventure."

"I have to admit I enjoyed having her life in my hands."

He smirked. Seemed his earlier assumption rang true. "Are we talking metaphorically or..."

Her answer was flat and to the point. "I had to stop her heart in order to deactivate the chip."

A thoroughly desperate Tess, he thought with glee. "That's something I'd have liked to see."

"Does it make me a bad person if I admit I considered not bringing her back?"

"With everything she's done I think it makes you an incredible person you didn't."

"It's not like it would have been hard. A simple oops, I'm sorry, the red heads devil won't be making it to work today. She's busy bartering with Satan for real estate."

"It might make things easier," he mused somewhat seriously.

Chloe shrugged. "I guess I'm just not built that way."

"You're built perfectly. I'd know." Chloe settled back in his arms. "So what do we do now?"

"I'm not really sure. You need to talk to Emil, and we have to clue Clark in. Maybe talk to the team?"

"It's reasonable."

"Right now though, I just want to lay here with you. No funny business Sullivan, I just need to feel you're ok."

Chloe sighed, the stress just melting away. After all they'd been through, this was exactly what they needed. "I am now," she assured him. "I am now."


	18. Chapter 18

Sorry for the extreme lag in updates. I finally got my computer fixed and am hoping to have more done soon.

Again, all mistakes are my own...

* * *

"So the story Lois has been after is the same case you've been working on?" asked Clark as he paced the length of Oliver's living room.

Chloe sighed, gripping her coffee mug tightly. Oliver tried to get her to slow down on the caffeine, she was already wound tighter than a top, but it was impossible. "Considering Lois is part bloodhound I'm surprised she didn't put it together."

Clark smiled. "Well it's not for lack of trying. Do you have any idea who sent you the information?"

She shook her head. "Not a clue, but it has to be someone on the inside."

"Not the doctors, obviously, and the only other players we know are Tess and Zod." Oliver commented as he walked in from the kitchen. "And I don't see them breaking out the welcome mat any time soon. It's someone new." He snagged Chloe's coffee under the guise of taking a sip and gently maneuvered her onto the couch. After Emil dropped his bomb Chloe had thrown herself even further into the meta situation and he was worried she'd soon crash—or worse, she'd break.

"I've looked into records, checked associates, researched friends. I can't find a connection," she complained, gesticulating wildly. She was frustrated, and with Watchtower gone felt rather useless.

Oliver mulled it over as he sat down next to Chloe. "Maybe there's not one," he pointed out. "What if it's someone Tess screwed over?"

"Or who became disillusioned? Decided they couldn't stomach it?" Clark added, on board with the idea.

"It's possible. I'll see if I can dig something up. Maybe her personnel files will show something." She made a move towards her laptop when Clark came to a halt right in front of them.

He glanced at Oliver, obviously worried about something. "But there's more, isn't there?" he asked pointedly.

"What do you mean?" Oliver pried, immediately on the defensive. Chloe didn't need Clark giving her a hard time, not after everything she'd been through recently, and if he was going to harp, well…

"I'm not accusing you of anything," he said, "but the last time you recovered so fast a drug was involved."

"Clark!" Chloe was actually surprised he'd venture there, after all the hard work Oliver had done in order to put the insecurities that drove him to RL65 to rest. It was nobody's business but his own and Clark knew better.

Oliver placed a restraining hand on Chloe's arm. "No, it's ok. He has a right to be concerned."

Clark had the grace to look embarrassed, but plunged ahead regardless. "I'm not. Well, not completely. I just want to know what's going on."

"Emil found something, he used it. End of story."

Oliver winced at the bite in his girlfriend's tone. "Chloe, come on."

She pulled away, expression closed—not to mention ornery. "No, there's no reason to bring him into it."

"I'm already in it Chlo, I'm your friend."

And with those words she visibly deflated. Oliver knew she wasn't _mad_ at anyone, just…concerned. The possible repercussions could prove astounding—and not necessarily positive.

She looked up at him. "I know Clark, I just…I haven't really dealt with it yet."

"If it's bad I'll help you through it, we _all_ will."

She glanced over at Oliver. Sharing things with Clark suddenly seemed foreign and uncomfortable. Then again, sharing things with _anyone_ at this stage made her feel slightly ill. She'd hoped to keep things quiet, at least until Emil had a chance to find out more, but it seemed she didn't have a choice. "I haven't been feeling well," she explained, "and I asked Emil to run some tests."

"God Chloe, are you sick?"

She almost laughed at the terrified look on his face—so earnest, as only Clark could be. "No! No, it's nothing like that, she hastened to assure. "He found something strange in my blood."

"An anomaly," Oliver clarified. "He transfused me with it at the hospital."

"Apparently I'm a universal donor. I _need_ to be, because whatever's in my blood can heal anything."

Clark began pacing again, his movements almost frantic. "Like you're ability? But I thought it was gone."

"It is," Oliver confirmed, reaching around to rub circles at the small of Chloe's back. He could feel the tension wreaking havoc on her tiny frame. "Emil tested for kryptonite. This has always been in her blood."

"It affected everything, even what my ability was."

"Can you use it like before?"

She remembered the first time she healed someone—Lois. The affects had been immediate and clear. Even after, for something as small as a cut on Jimmy's finger, she could recall feeling _something_. No, this was entirely different. "I don't think so Clark, I'm sorry."

"Emil doesn't have all the facts but he's promised to work on it," Oliver told him. He knew how important it was for Chloe to have answers, and he wished there was a way he could help other than his bank account. But until then his money would have to suffice.

Clark awkwardly rubbed at the back of his neck. "I'm glad you're ok Oliver, truly. But I'm concerned about what this means for Chloe."

"Emil says she's not in any danger."

"Do you believe him?"

He wanted to say yes, to assure them all she was safe. Unfortunately, he couldn't, not without proving himself a liar. "I don't exactly have a choice," he offered instead.

"Would you stop? He's got Oliver to deal with if he's yanking anybody's chain and we all know how damaging _that_ can be. I'd say he's pretty damned sure," barked Chloe.

"But not 100 percent," countered Clark.

She rolled her eyes. "Nothing is guaranteed. Didn't Lex teach you anything?"

"I'm just worried!"

"Then take a Xanax. Meta's are dropping like flies and Zod is building an army. My blood rates second string and you know it."

Oliver slid off the couch, placing himself between them. "Clark is right," he said to Chloe. "You could be a target. If Zod got his hands on you—"

"It would jeopardize everything, I know. We can't afford to let him have my blood."

He glared at her, a little affronted she immediately wrote him off as more interested in the damn job. "I'm more worried about losing _you_ Chloe."

"Oliver…"

"Someone's with her at all times. Can we count on the team?" asked Clark.

"Victor's still digging on his end and who knows with Dinah. She's flighty. But I'm sure Bart will help."

Chloe looked between the two. _Unbelievable_, she thought. It was like she didn't even warrant an opinion. "I don't need a babysitter."

"It's not up for debate. Clark and I are in agreement."

"As if one mother hen wasn't enough," she muttered, but they both ignored her.

Clark's eyes never left Oliver. "Do we know what triggered it?"

"Emil thinks it was coded into her DNA. He called Gabe, who can't remember Moira seeing anyone besides her obstetrician when she was pregnant."

"Wait, Emil talked to my _father_?" Chloe couldn't believe the audacity, and that Oliver allowed it—not without at least asking her permission. They were _her_ parents! This was _her_ life!

"We needed answers."

Chloe leaned back against the couch. Oliver was right, they _did_ need answers. And there was one avenue she was sure no one thought to pursue. "What about my mom? Has anyone tried talking to her?"

"Chloe, it's impossible."

"Not if Lex kept some of the drug he used to keep her lucid. If it's around, Tess would have it."

"No way am I cluing that self-serving, egocentric and not to mention spiteful as all hell, psychopathic witch in on things."

Chloe chuckled at his adamancy. "You don't have to. It wouldn't be the first time Green Arrow broke into a Luthor owned facility."

"It could work," mused Clark.

Oliver rounded on him. "Are you seriously going along with this? Come on, this is the most asinine scheme she's ever come up with!"

"Like you said, we need answers."

Oliver shook his head. There was no way he was putting Chloe in the line of fire. All Tess needed was an inkling of Chloe's worth and she became a target bigger than anything they'd ever seen. "No. Not like this."

Chloe glanced at him. "Why are you so worried? She won't find out it's me. And if you get caught you lie; tell her you need information my mom has about something Lex was involved in. It's not a stretch."

"Tess is smart. She didn't get to be super villain of the week by playing gullible."

She leaned forward, elbows resting on her knees. "Then give me another suggestion Oliver. A viable one."

"Let Emil do his job."

"Do you really think he can figure it out?" Clark asked from the sidelines.

"Honestly, I don't know. But going after Tess should be a last resort not a knee jerk reaction."

"Then we give him time," Clark agreed. "Right now we focus on the meta's and Zod."

Chloe sighed, knowing her argument was lost and there was no point pursuing it—not at this juncture anyway. "Mark Silton was released yesterday," she informed them.

"And Laura Silton was found dead. Lois told me."

Oliver sat down again, once more reaching for Chloe's coffee and wishing it was something stronger. "Right, Lois's story." He leaned back into the cushions. "So the group's done then. Mark was the last one."

She shook her head, amazed she hadn't realized it yet. "So whatever they have planned is almost finished." A sense of urgency crept over her, and she could tell Oliver felt the same as he tensed up beside her.

Just then Clark's phone alerted him to an incoming text. He checked it quickly. "Lois," he said. "I've got to get back to work. Promise you'll keep me in the loop?"

Chloe squeezed Oliver's knee and stood, making her way towards her friend. Death may be hanging on their doorstep, but she didn't have to kowtow to it. Besides, things had been better lately and she had high hopes for their friendship despite the rocky road they'd been on. She felt she needed to nurture that, before it was too late. "I promise Clark. And thanks."

He cocked his head to the side, obviously confused. "For what?"

She shrugged. "Just being my friend."

The oddest expression passed over his face before he impulsively hugged her, catching Oliver's grin from the couch. "Always Chloe," he murmured into her hair. "Always."


	19. Chapter 19

Sorry for the entirely too long lag in updates! I started a new job and the hours have been crazy, but that's no excuse I know. I just want to take a minute to thank everyone who's reviewed, it means so much and really helps get me get back on track when I feel like I'm losing the story. I hope to have another chapter done soon; I have all the dialogue written I just need to fill it in. All mistakes are mine and I hope this chapter slightly makes up for the wait time!

* * *

Oliver smiled as he pulled out the cartons of Chinese food he'd brought over for dinner. His coat was tossed in a chair, steel gray tie loosened considerably. Chloe was humming a bit, flitting through some computer program at her desk. He'd noticed a difference in her lately, a weight lifted, mostly stemming from her tenuously repaired friendship with Clark. But today she seemed almost…incandescent. Kind of like when they'd first started having sex. He wondered for a minute if he should be worried. "Did someone fit the Watchtower with a Starbuck's I'm not aware of yet?"

Chloe laughed. Leave it to Oliver to chalk her happiness up to easily accessible caffeine. "One would think, but no." She typed in a few commands before turning her attention on him. "I talked to a friend today, and as a result I feel…lighter, less emotionally bloated."

Oliver's nose twitched. "Nice imagery. I take it you worked through some issues?" He set aside the fortune cookies as he dug through the bag for some rice.

"Yea. I worked through Clark," she stated, making her way over to the food.

Oliver paused, fork hanging in midair. "Ok, make that worked through a minefield." He finished dishing up the Lo Mein and handed her a plate. "Things do seem a little better with you two."

"They are," she said, situating herself on the couch. "We…reaffirmed our friendship for lack of better phrasing; back to being buddies extraordinaire, and yes I'm being facetious."

Oliver grinned, stopping off to grab them some water before sitting down. "Cute. I take it he was receptive?"

"I didn't bring it up actually. He stopped by and we talked. It's the first time in a while we deliberately made some sort of effort to work at the gaping breach out relationship tends to be."

Oliver swallowed his chicken and glanced over at her. Through it pained him to admit it, the truth was his girlfriend and teammate were irrevocably entwined. Not quite as convoluted as lovers, but sometimes their connection seemed higher than that. "Chloe, you and Clark are epic," he explained. "I know people tend to reserve that moniker for star crossed lovers or Shakespearean tragedies but your friendship fits. It would've happened eventually."

Chloe sipped her water thoughtfully. "I guess I just lost hope," she admitted. "Clark and I, we've been so many things throughout the years I think I forgot the one thing that defined us."

"Your friendship."

"And they say you're not perceptive," she teased.

"Funny Sullivan. But in all honesty I'm really happy for you. You know I have my own issues with boyscout but I'd never let them come between anything." It was true; though he and Clark rarely saw eye-to-eye he respected Chloe's affection for the alien, and he believed her when she said her feelings had waned, hovering strictly on platonically necessary to her survival. She needed Clark in her life and Oliver would never fight that, not anymore.

"I know Ollie. I just had to get to it on my own somehow."

He set aside his plate, more interested in her than the food. "You think things will be apocalypse as usual then?"

Chloe snorted, appreciating Oliver's humorous overture. She stretched a bit and slipped off her shoes. She'd already un-tucked her cream blouse, leaving it loose across the hips of her fitted black slacks. "I hope so. We both took responsibility, which is a first. It felt really good." She cleared her throat. "We talked about when he left."

He noticed her expression, a little shuttered—guarded. "Heavy," he noted. "How did he take it?"

"Really well actually. He…made a few things clear; things I needed to hear. I guess I've always felt a little inferior, like I'm playing dress up." Oliver bristled at that, but let her continue. "The league…it's so much bigger than me; so much…_more_. I was hanging on to a heroes coattails for dear life, and I finally let go."

Chloe, you're an integral part of the team," he started, but her hand stopped him.

"Clark already gave me the song and dance but I appreciate the gesture," she mollified. "I play a part, a crucial one, and I can't turn my back on it. I was ready to but…not anymore."

"Well thank God for Clark then." He wrapped his arms around her, hugging her sweetly. "We'd fall apart without you Chlo."

She shrugged, or at least tried to, but Oliver's grip was too tight. "Maybe," she said, "but it doesn't matter now. I embraced —finally."

Oliver pulled back, studying her face carefully. "Watchtower is back online?" he asked.

Chloe's grin was bright enough to light the entire building, and he loved it. "Yes it is," she confirmed. "Permanently."

* * *

It was a few hours later when Oliver came racing through the doors. After dinner they talked a bit more and had sex, which prompted his little trip to the store. Chloe wanted post coital ice cream and she was out at the tower.

"What's got your tights in a twist?" she questioned from the couch, wrapped snugly in a green fleece blanket. She hadn't bothered with putting her clothes back on.

"Turn on the news Chloe," he ordered, tossing the brown paper bag to the side.

Chloe sat up and reached forward for the remote, pulling the local news channel up on all of her monitors. There was Zod in all his disenchanting glory, wreaking havoc in Boston as they reported live. "Oh shit, did he just…disappear?"

Oliver slid down next to her, gripping her knee tightly. "It's been like this all night. Not to mention the fact that four hours ago a woman fitting Lois's description was seen robbing a bank in DC."

The look of shock on her face was palpable. "What?"

"Clark called me. He says Lois is in tears, _and_ spitting nails she's so mad." He ran a frustrated hand through his hair. "I checked the paper," he explained, cursing himself for being too busy to read it at breakfast, or at any time during the rest of his day. Apparently Chloe was too busy as well. "Mark Silton died last night. Remember his powers?"

Chloe paled. "Invisibility."

"He figured it out, or Tess did…I really don't know."

It hit her like a ton of bricks. "He's got their powers," she breathed, "all of the metas he killed." She glanced up at him. "And the rest of the Kandorians?"

Oliver shrugged. "He gave them back their original powers, why would this be any different?"

Chloe squeezed herself into his side, Oliver's arm twining around her shoulders automatically. "I don't know," she said. "It just seems strange he's the only one flaunting."

"Unless he's playing them close to his chest."

Chloe shivered uncontrollably. "God Ollie, this is bad—Doomsday bad."

"Yea, I know." His fingers brushed along her bare arm absently.

"Is Clark ok?"

"He's freaked out as usual. You know he's melodramatic."

Chloe watched as the news switched to Philadelphia, where their psychotic nemesis was once again destroying something symbolic and pure. "In this case it's warranted. We need to come up with a plan Oliver. We can't let Zod take over."

"Clark's on it, something about a book?"

"The Book of Rao. Clark needs it, but there's no hope unless his mom's feeling generous."

Oliver looked at her sharply. He'd obviously missed something important, something relevant. "What does Martha Kent have to do with it?"

Chloe sighed and pulled herself from his arms, reaching down for her long discarded blouse and shrugging it on. "It's a long story," she said before shoving her way into her slacks. "It's just a theory, but I think she's the one who had it last."

Oliver watched as his sidekick took up residence behind her computers, ready to battle Zod in her own way. He'd never admit it openly, but it was one of the things he loved the most about her; her tenacious quest for justice and never ending willingness to jump head first into the fray despite some people thinking her less than capable. Chloe Sullivan was never one to back down, regardless of the odds.

"I've got Vic and Bart online," she noted. "They've seen the reports and are standing by. Want me to rally the rest of the troops?"

Oliver stood up and made his way to her. "Have them all check in in an hour. We'll have a better idea of things then."

"Message sent," she responded. "I know it may not be feasible but are you sure this the right time to be leaving town? Can't Queen Industries send someone else?"

Oliver sighed. The _last_ thing he wanted to do was go on a business trip—for multiple reasons—but his plans were unavoidable. "I can't get around it Chloe, but I promise you if anything happens I'm back in heartbeat."

Chloe turned around and pushed herself against him, breathing deeply as he wrapped himself around her. Things were downright scary at the moment, but one thing was certain—the world had a league of heroes ready and willing to fight for it, and despite the rag tag bunch of members; despite the less than auspicious beginnings; despite the struggles they barely managed to overcome, Chloe would put her faith in them each and every damn time, and _that_ was promise she would take to her grave, be it tomorrow or a lifetime from now.


	20. Chapter 20

Thanks to everyone who reviewed and who have been so unbelievably supportive of this fic! I'm hoping to be able to update again in the next few weeks, I have a lot going on here so I'm not sure—but I promise I'll try for sooner rather than later! Again I apologize for any mistakes, and I own nothing unfortunately.

* * *

Oliver had been going around in circles with himself since he'd left. In his mind—and heart—things with Chloe were more than official; they were permanent. The problem was making _her_ see that. Oh, he was well aware she'd gotten somewhat complacent, a little bold with their relationship, but she was a far cry from being able to admit it's endurance. Hell, he'd tried to tell her earlier and she blew him off with some lame excuse about the database. Right, the _database_ was why he wanted to come home so bad. God she was infuriating.

He sighed and tugged at his collar. He'd thrown his coat and tie in the backseat the minute he stepped into the car. He couldn't handle being so constricted, not with the weight of his upcoming confession suffocating him so soundly. He'd sent her a text to let her know he was coming but had yet to hear back. He prayed she was just busy and Zod hadn't gotten his manic little hands on her. Everything was going to hell in a hand basket and Oliver _needed_ to be by her side.

By the time he made it to Watchtower his heart was pounding like a jackhammer, face flush with determination. He made his way up the elevators and all but stormed inside. He'd psyched himself up for this moment and damn-it he wanted her capitulation!

He noted Chloe was manning the computers as usual, looking weary but still beautiful to his hardened eyes. He stood silent for a moment, drinking her in. Clad in a tank top and yoga pants, her bare feet shuffling to some unknown beat; he imagined she looked like home, and he wanted nothing more than to bask there. "Anything pop since I've been gone?" he asked, slipping behind her and pressing a kiss to the side of her head. He wasn't sure how to segue in to 'the talk', but for right now he was content to simply reconnect a little.

She sighed and leaned back into his arms. "Just about everything you can think of hero." She turned to face him, tugging gently on his hand. "Let's sit."

Oliver frowned. "I take it this is serious," he said. Chloe never built up to anything, she just threw it out there regardless of the repercussions, and something in her tone held a warning he could honestly say unnerved him. He didn't like it.

"Tess is upstairs," she blurted out.

Oliver's eyes nearly popped out of his head. Of all the things he expected, this was _not_ one of them. "Excuse me? Did you just say _Tess Mercer_ is getting cozy in our clubhouse?" he all but hissed.

Chloe rolled her eyes and pushed him down on the couch. "She's switched teams Ollie, and no, I don't buy for a second she wouldn't throw me under a bus to get clear of things. But right now she's useful, and I'll take any allies I can get right now."

Oliver scrubbed a hand over his face, exhaling deeply. It felt like he was trying to rid himself of the miasma his ruthless ex had become. "What the hell did I miss?"

"Tess can explain things more clearly, but Clark found her at Met Gen. She was dying Oliver." Chloe leaned into him slightly, an odd expression flitting across her face. "Zod…he decimated her."

It wasn't surprising really, that Zod had turned on Tess. The man wasn't known for his loyalty. But why would Clark—and now Chloe—take her on in his stead? It was baffling! "Chloe, you need to start filling in the blanks before I drive myself mad. I'm already bordering on malfunctional honey so please put me out of my misery."

Chloe chuckled and squirmed further into his side. For some reason she needed the tactile connection she and Oliver always shared. She was deeply disturbed and it showed. "Clark called me from the hospital. Tess was in ICU and she told him what Zod was trying to do." Chloe paused, glancing up at his face. "She also told him how to stop the Kandorians."

And the hits just kept on coming. At this point Oliver figured even Bart could take him out, and the boy wasn't exactly known for his boxing skills. "Why would she do that?"

"Because Tess has been playing double agent for a while now. She claims she's always been on Clark's side but my guess is she was waiting to see who could benefit her the most." Chloe shrugged. "Looks like she chose Clark."

"And Zod took exception."

"Considering she went after the bastard with a pair of kryptonite laced brass knuckles I'd say the answer's yes."

Oliver's jaw hit the ground. "She did what? Is she out of her mind?"

His girlfriend simply arched a brow.

"Never mind, stupid question."

Chloe huffed a laugh and continued on with her explanation. "His retaliation was…fucked up. Not a very eloquent description I know but…there are no words Ollie."

He was a little surprised at the breadth of her emotion. She was genuinely horrified by Zod's attack on their…enemy? He shook his head. Trust Tess to turn the tables and force his allegiance despite having tried to destroy his life on an almost daily basis lately. "What did he do Chloe?" he asked, admittedly—and morbidly—curious.

Chloe's eyes clenched shut, bracing herself for the images she couldn't seem to pull from her head. "He burned her with his heat vision. Her face. It was…destroyed. It looked like ground meat."

Oliver's stomach turned and he willed himself not to throw up. "God Chloe, that's…"

"I know."

"And she's upstairs? Right now?" His voice was quiet; eerie, it's tone reminiscent of his speaking of the dead—the ones he valued anyway—and he had to force himself to appear normal. It seemed Chloe needed that right now.

"Emil was at the hospital when Clark told me everything and I _had_ to do it Oliver." Her expression turned to one of pleading, and Oliver's grew grim in understanding. "You understand, don't you?"

Oliver just stared. "Emil transfused her," he guessed.

"It was the only way," she defended. "He already had a good amount, I'd given him enough to handle a few of the team's injuries…just in case."

Oliver had to bite his tongue to keep from snapping at her. He knew she was simply desperate to help but damn-it, he was tired of her acting like a disposable commodity. He absolutely _hated_ the fact she undervalued herself.

"I didn't give him too much more, but she needed a lot Ollie. It was that bad."

Oliver leaned his head back against the couch. Well that explained how pale Chloe was, and why she was dressed in her 'comfort clothes' as she'd once dubbed them. "And it worked?"

She nodded. "Like a charm. Emil's upstairs running a few more tests but there's no sign of any trauma."

Oliver took a deep breath and stood up, making his way into the kitchen. He'd stashed a bottle of scotch in one of the cabinets, at the time hoping to share it with Chloe, relax and unwind after a hard day. Now he just needed it to stay sane for the next few hours. We _are_ going to talk about this Chloe," he warned her, pouring a generous amount in his glass. He grimaced as he sucked it down; then poured himself another.

Chloe slid her hand up his arm and he looked down at her, startled. He hadn't even noticed she'd moved. He was more discombobulated than he realized.

"I know and I'm sorry, but I didn't know what else to do."

He blinked at her a little foolishly. To be honest, the last thing he expected was an apology. No, he figured she'd come out swinging, throwing fifty defenses as to why her sacrifice was justifiable. "You just…you have to be ok Chloe. Do _you_ understand _that_? I can't…"

"Ollie, it's ok," she breathed, wrapping her arms around his middle and squeezing with all her might. Truth be told she felt the same way about him, though she was loath to admit it. Lately her feelings were becoming much too serious and she was spending far too much time pondering what to do. But at this point she highly doubted she could walk away.

Oliver leaned into her, setting his glass down and gripping her tightly. He let himself enjoy her touch for a few minutes before finally extricating himself and pulling her back to the couch, bringing along his glass and the bottle of scotch for good measure.

Tess was heading down the stairs when they entered. "You know, your girlfriend packs quite the punch. Never let it be said she isn't an asset to your little…organization."

His eyes narrowed, taking in her haggard appearance. If he didn't know her so well it would have been impossible to tell anything out of the ordinary occurred, but given Tess was standing before them in scrub pants and a t-shirt, face devoid of any makeup with he typically bright red hair twisted into a limp ponytail, he realized she'd been through hell. "She's the heart of this team Tess," he admitted. "I'm well aware of her import." He grabbed his glass and took another swig. "I'm glad you're ok," he offered as genuinely as possible.

Tess smirked and made her way over to the couch. She nodded at Chloe as she sat down. "I suppose you want answers then."

"That might be helpful."

Chloe elbowed him sharply in the ribs. "Be nice," she hissed under her breath as she sat down and curled her legs up beneath her.

Oliver sighed and joined her, throwing his arm across her shoulders. "Chloe filled me in a little bit. I hear you've been playing both sides of the fence," he said with an impish grin; then he glanced over at Chloe. "And I mean that in the _nicest_ possible way."

Chloe threw her hands up in defeat. "Tess just tell him what you told me, or did you want to wait for Clark?"

The redhead smiled and shook her head. "Clark's already in the loop on this one, but if Emil is interested he's more than welcome to join us." She motioned to the Dr. as he passed by them on his way to the door.

Emil looked surprised, then uncomfortable, then curious as he went to stand behind Oliver. "I would be interested in the dynamics of what went on, if no one objects to my being here."

"Of course not Emil," Chloe assured. "Make yourself comfortable."

"I'm fine here. I can't stay long, I ran out on some work at the hospital I'll have to get back to."

"Alright then," Oliver commanded, twirling his finger obnoxiously in the air. "Let's get this party started."


	21. Chapter 21

I am so so sorry for being such a horrible updater! Real life has just been sucking the creativity out of me. I hope this chapter is up to snuff and I'm crossing my fingers the next update won't be so long in coming! Thanks for sticking with me and reviewing! Once more I own nothing and I apologize for any mistakes!

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"You're such a child Oliver," Tess complained, and Chloe merely shook her head. She was utterly baffled how a man with such seemingly poor emotional intelligence managed to head up a multi-billion dollar company. He'd been sniping all night and it was grating on her _very last nerves_. Emil seemed to sense her frustration and smiled blandly.

"Hey, this is exciting stuff!" Oliver continued, cheeky little grin still firmly in place. "We get to here your excuses for teaming up with Metropolis's resident super villain."

"The merger was planned," Tess revealed tersely. "I was protecting Clark; it's why I stole the crystals." She was clearly upset, lips pinched in an unattractive scowl and Oliver's grin widened infinitesimally. He loved riling Mercy, and considering all she'd done to his loved ones he felt it was the least she deserved.

"For the book of Rao?" asked Chloe, succeeding in diverting his attention for the moment. She was so earnest and eager, ready to shout bygones at the drop of a hat if it meant solving the latest crisis. He sighed, feeling rather defeated. He supposed he _should_ curb his pestering for the time being, see if Tess could really help; if not for the league or the world at large, than at least for Chloe's sake. His girlfriend went through a lot to get Tess back up and running, and he was determined to honor that.

"Yes. It was never my intention to side with Zod, not permanently anyway."

"And when you confronted him, you got burned—literally." He studied her face carefully, but there were no signs of trauma. It sent a sliver of cold fear straight into the pit of his stomach. He was terrified for Chloe, but he didn't want to bring it out in such a strained environment, especially with Tess's loyalty still at play.

The woman in question glared. "Thanks for the reminder. Zod was…less than pleased."

Oliver rolled his eyes. "I can't imagine why. You have deception down to an art form Mercy."

Chloe smacked his arm. She was through with his snide barbs and backhanded compliments. "Ollie, enough. She paid her dues," Chloe chided. "I'm not saying I trust her, no offence Tess, but it's worth hearing her out."

Oliver sat back and scowled, arms crossed as he huffed out a "Fine."

Good Lord, Chloe thought, Ollie certainly had the market cornered on petulant man-children. It was ridiculous, though a part of her couldn't blame him. They'd been dealing with some fairly heavy issues leading up to Tess's presence in Watchtower and she knew most of his posturing was just a way for him to cope. She made a promise to spend some time with Oliver one on one in order to hash things out, and she slid her hand across his knee in silent support. He smiled, and she finally relaxed before glancing towards Tess again.

The red head seemed content with Oliver's minor capitulation and she continued with her tale. "A while back I discovered something both intriguing and horrifying; a way to remove and harness Metahuman abilities. I wasn't going to use it, just study it, but Zod caught on and I had to offer up the files as a show of…good faith. He began testing almost immediately."

"Black Creek," Chloe supplied and Oliver's arms dropped, his interest suddenly piqued.

"Where you hatched your little league of criminal masterminds," he accused.

Tess looked a bit surprised he knew but she covered it quickly, and Chloe nudged him in warning. Oliver let it drop. There was no use bringing up old grievances, Chloe was right about that. Besides, the group had disbanded quite some time ago thanks to Tess's duplicitous nature. None of them particularly relished the thought of an exploding brain.

"I'm a little lost here," Emil chimed in. "Black Creek is some sort of facility?"

"Was," Tess corrected. "I had it shut down, but not before I took a little research with me."

Oliver's brows shot up. He was impressed, he'd never heard such an eloquent turn of phrase for taking prisoners and forcing them into mercenary work without the promised payment. He had to give her credit; Mercy was the ballsiest woman he knew next to the pint-sized dynamo beside him.

"That's neither here nor there," she stated. "I went along with the metakandorian scheme to prove my loyalty. Zod would have killed me otherwise, and I wouldn't have been able to protect Clark."

"What I don't understand is why," Chloe said. "We know Zod hates Clark, but why everything else? Why the murders?"

Emil nodded in agreement, though he looked a little shell-shocked. Oliver guessed he was still reeling from Tess's injuries, not to mention he hadn't been a party to the inner workings of Zod's machinations up until this point, and he was being forced to assimilate a shocking amount of information in an equally short amount of time. It was enough to make anyone confused.

"It's not just Clark Zod resented," Tess explained. "He hated the metahumans for their arrogance in deigning themselves equal to the kandorians."

Chloe sighed. It all fit, not to mention Zod was just plain power hungry. "But he has a partner," she remembered out loud, recalling Oliver's report of someone else in the lab he'd staked out, someone who sounded like they were in charge—and it _wasn't_ Zod. "Doesn't he Tess?"

"I've never met him," she confirmed, "but I can guarantee he's still in the picture."

"What's his role?" Oliver questioned.

"To be honest I don't know. He wasn't there often, and he ever met with me personally. Zod was always careful to include him in all the details though. There isn't a piece of information he didn't pass on."

"So whoever it is could be just as bad, if not _worse_, than Zod," Chloe mused. "Do you think _he_ could be the mastermind?"

"I didn't get that impression. It seemed more a meeting of equals."

"And the meta's? When did they fit in?"

"After he found my research. The four meta's from Belle Reve were chosen specifically for their abilities because they would be useful to Kandorians. The meta's were ignored if it was something they already possessed."

"It was a process long in play," Emil guessed. "Possibly even before you entered the field Tess."

She seemed to think about it. "You could be right. Laura Silton and Brensen Lask kick started everything. Laura was chosen to suss out the pertinent Meta's and Brensen was needed to manipulate their probability of success, and in Chloe's case, her power."

"You mean Chloe's a target?" Oliver was on high alert now, the sick feeling from earlier back with a vengeance. He had known it was only a matter of time and he cursed himself for not acting sooner. There should already be a plan in place for her safety and he suddenly felt like a failure.

Tess seemed to soften at Oliver's reaction, her voice measured as she continued. "The strange thing was, all Brensen found in Chloe was a remnant. Unfortunately, it was enough to peak Zod's curiosity. I'm sorry Oliver."

He scrubbed a hand over his face, unconsciously reaching for Chloe, and she slid against him without a moment's hesitation. "It was bound to happen. We knew it was a possibility when her blood first tested off."

"If it's any consolation he ran into complications because of her associations, so they focused on others. Zod hoped that with enough power Chloe being surrounded by a league of heroes would become irrelevant, and they could begin to research her. It's proved more difficult than he thought."

"Well thank God for that," he ground out. "He's not getting his hands on her." Oliver couldn't even think about what would happen if Zod took her. Lex's torture would seem like parlor tricks.

"I'm warning you _now_, they eventually found out about her blood. She's become the last piece of the metakandorian puzzle."

"But why?" Chloe wanted to know. "He's unstoppable now that he has the stolen abilities."

"Not quite," Tess disagreed. "He's still Kryptonian, like Clark."

"Kryptonite," Oliver muttered. "So it's that simple?"

Tess sighed, leaning back against the couch. "I wish it were. With his new abilities it's doubtful you'd have much success with green kryptonite."

"Shape shifting," Chloe mused. "All he'd have to do is become someone else and his weaknesses fade away."

"Exactly. And since shape shifting is a metahuman ability, not a kryptonian one—"

"He could be weakened and still shift," Oliver finished. "And once he's shifted any weakness from the kryptonite is gone."

"Just enough to get out of range and shift back."

"Then what is it? What can stop him?"

Oliver leaned forward, pulling Chloe with him. "Whatever it takes Tess, I'll do it. Just tell me what it is."

"_Blue_ kryptonite. That's your answer."

Chloe tensed up. She remembered Clark's ordeal with the substance, and had no desire to bring him anywhere near something that destructive again, but with the kandorian threat they had no choice but to bring Clark to the forefront. "It makes them normal; vulnerable, like us," she explained. "You could kill him then. Easily."

"It's why they want you Chloe. If they had your blood, your ability to heal, the kryptonite wouldn't affect them."

Oliver's entire body grew rigid when Emil's expression flew to one of fascination. "I suppose in theory then, your blood could be the answer to it all. So many crises averted health wise."

"Just tap a vein why don't you," Oliver snapped. "Let's go ahead and cure cancer, bleed her out so we can harness it all." He was angry now. Chloe was _not_ a science experiment, yet Emil of all people was treating her like one. Sure he was a far cry from Lex and Zod but the base desire was the same, and he'd be damned if he let anybody make Chloe feel that helpless again.

"Oliver stop." Chloe's voice was hard, demanding even, but it did nothing to slow him down.

"No! This is completely over the line Chloe!"

"He's a doctor, of _course_ he's interested. He didn't mean anything by it."

"I agree with Chloe. I'm interested myself, the possibilities are incredible Oliver—even you can see that."

Oliver stood. "Maybe I _can_ see Tess, but I don't care. _She's_ what's important, not what her blood can do."

"We know that!" Tess snapped.

His fists clenched and he sucked in a breath. He may be acting irrational, but at this point he didn't care. Everything was boiling up. "Oh come off it. You don't give a damn about her well being, you've been shacking up with Zod for God's sake!"

"Oliver!"

He brushed Chloe off. "You come here now, after he tried to kill you, and expect us to treat you like part of the team?" He scoffed at her. "That's rich Mercy, even for you."

"I do care! I wouldn't be here otherwise."

"Bullshit! You have no other options, that's the extent of it."

"Oliver that's enough," Emil tried. Even _he_ could see the situation was growing out of control.

Tess glared up at him. "Who do you think has been sending Chloe the information? Did you really believe it was an anonymous source?"

Chloe's eyes shot to Tess in genuine surprise. In had never entered her mind that Tess had been the one to give them an edge.

"_You_ sent us the information?"

"Of course. I told you Chloe, I wanted to protect Clark."

Oliver shook his head. He could honestly care less about Tess proving to be up front; it didn't change the fact she had a hand in putting Chloe on Zod's radar.

"I would've been hit eventually Ollie, Tess or no Tess," Chloe said. He finally cracked and smiled a little. The fact that she knew him so well gave him comfort. He turned around then and pulled her into his arms.

"I'm sorry," he whispered into her hair. "I can't think straight when you're in the line of fire."

Chloe chuckled. "I think we've figured that out."

Tess cleared her throat and stood, throwing an awkward glance at Emil. "I think I'll get some rest. It's been a…trying day."

"I can take you home," Emil offered. "It wouldn't hurt to check things over once more, make sure you're 100 percent."

Chloe untangled herself from Oliver and reached out. "Thank you Tess." She knew the older woman had swallowed a hefty amount of pride in coming, and she felt the need to acknowledge that. "I think we've all probably had enough. Can we talk tomorrow?"

Tess smiled faintly but nodded. "I'll be by in the morning."

Oliver didn't say anything, just watched them leave. His mind was still swirling; anger, fear, love. He wasn't sure which was the predominant emotion and he was suddenly exhausted from it all. Chloe's hands gripping his shoulders broke him from his thoughts and he stared down at her.

"It will be ok," she promised, eyes shining.

He knew she was just as scared as he was, but for very different reasons, and it was then that he knew. He had to tell her, because like it or not there was a good chance he wouldn't have much longer to muster up the nerve. He pulled her to him, locking his arms around her just in case she had the urge to run. "Chloe," he began, voice clear and solid, utterly sure in his conviction. "Chloe, I love you."


End file.
